Exquisite Acquisitions

By Charlene Sands

For Macy Tarlington, the only good part of seeing her legendary mother’s possessions sold at auction is ogling Carter McCay, the tall Texan who buys the famous diamond ring. Even better is seeing him again when he rescues her from the paparazzi like a white knight in a Stetson.

Carter whisks her to safety at Wild River Ranch, hiding her identity by day and lusting after her by night. Yes, he’s sworn off love. But with the Hollywood runaway starring in his every fantasy, Carter may find Macy too much temptation — even for a hard-hearted cowboy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers Australia
• Release date: Aug 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9780857997371

Charlene Sands

Charlene Sands is a USA Today bestselling author of 35 contemporary and historical romances. She's been honored with The National Readers' Choice Award, Booksellers Best Award and Cataromance Reviewer's Choice Award. She loves babies,chocolate and thrilling love stories.Take a peek at her bold, sexy heroes and real good men! www.charlenesands.com and Facebook

Book preview

Prologue

Wild River Ranch, Texas

He struck a match on his boot heel and guided the flame toward the cigarette clenched between his lips. With one long pull of breath, the tip blazed to life. Carter McCay closed his eyes as images of the fallen soldiers who’d fought alongside him flashed in his mind. He took one drag…one honorary inhalation. The ritual was agreed upon by those lucky enough to have come home, all those years ago. On the first day of every month, each one of his comrades did the same. Somewhere out there, twenty-three former marines were lighting up and remembering Afghanistan.

The subtle rush of the river pulled him out of those thoughts. He leaned a shoulder against an ancient oak and nestled into the tree’s grooved bark, watching the rhythmic, nearly perfect ripples of Wild River. The water wasn’t as wild as its namesake today, Carter mused. It was quiet and peaceful here, shaded from the hot Texas sun.

The dog plopped down at his feet and whimpered long and loud as the trail of smoke met his upturned wet nose.

Carter pushed his Stetson higher on his forehead and looked into questioning, soulful eyes. He couldn’t blame the dog for being wary of smoke. The dog saw too much, knew too much. You followed me up here, pal.

Carter tossed the cigarette and crushed it into the ground with his boot, then lowered to a crouch beside the golden retriever. He gave him a pat on the head. The dog sandwiched his head between his front paws and gave a big sigh.

Yeah, I know, boy. You’ve had it tough. Carter ruffled Rocky’s furry neck, damn glad he’d rescued the hound from his father’s place. The home where Carter had grown up wasn’t fit for a dog.

His cell phone pinged. Carter pulled his iPhone from his back pocket and gave a quick look. A text message from Roark Waverly appeared on the front screen. He hadn’t heard from his former marine buddy in months. But he wasn’t surprised that he’d leave a message today of all days. Probably just lit one up, too, he muttered, glad to hear from his friend. But as he read on, Roark had something entirely different to say. Something Carter had to read twice.

C. Ran into some trouble. In hiding. Get word to Ann Richardson at Waverly’s. The Gold Heart statue is not stolen. I can’t trust Waverly’s networks. R.B.

* * *

Carter frowned. What the hell what that all about?

After his tour of duty, Roark had gotten heavily involved in running around seven continents procuring valuable artifacts to sell at Waverly’s auction house based out of New York. Roark had been in some tough binds through the years, and normally the marine could take care of himself just fine. Carter had been on the receiving end of his friend’s quick thinking when they’d been on street patrol in a small settlement in Afghanistan. Roark had discovered that the car Carter was about to inspect was booby trapped. He’d shoved Carter out of the way before his hand met with the door handle, and Carter knew then that he owed Roark his life.

C’mon, Rocky, he said, heading toward his Jeep without a glance back. He knew his father’s dog would follow. He was as loyal as they come. I’ve got some investigating to do.

Two hours later, his cousin Brady knocked on his front door and Carter led him into the great room. The room meant for entertaining was one of many improvements he’d made to the house after he’d inherited Wild River Ranch from his uncle Dale. Over the years and after a little luck and a lot of hard work, Carter had turned his uncle’s small working ranch into a stellar operation that competed equally with elite Texas cattle barons.

He handed Brady a shot glass of whiskey. Here you go, cuz.

Brady grinned. I know it’s five o’clock somewhere, but tell me, why are we drinking this early in the afternoon?

Because thanks to you, I’m heading to New York tomorrow.

Me? What do Brady McCay and New York have in common?

Carter couldn’t tell him about Roark’s cryptic text message. That message wasn’t meant to be discussed, not even with someone Carter trusted. But he could tell Brady the other reason for his trip. As he’d researched the New York auction house Roark worked for, he’d found that Hollywood screen legend Tina Tarlington’s diamond rings were being auctioned off this weekend. The famed Tarlington diamond had been in the press ever since Tina Tarlington’s first marriage, decades ago. Now, there was even more buzz about all three of her diamonds since the Queen of Cinema had passed away a few months ago. Carter planned to get his hands on one of those diamonds and, at the same time, deliver Roark’s message to the CEO of Waverly’s.

You’re the one who introduced me to Jocelyn, right? Carter asked.

I can’t deny that. I sure did.

She’s in New York right now, visiting a friend.

His cousin’s eyebrows narrowed. I’m not following.

I intend to join her there and ask her to marry me.

Brady blinked and jerked back in surprise. You intend to marry Jocelyn Grayson? I didn’t realize things were that serious between you two.

Damn straight they are. I’ve been hunting for the right engagement ring for weeks now. If all goes as planned, she’ll be my fiancée very soon.

You’re really in love with Jocelyn? There was a note of disbelief in Brady’s voice.

Carter had to admit he was moving a little fast. But from the day he’d been introduced to the granddaughter of Brady’s neighbor, Carter had been smitten. Now, less than a year later, Carter was ready to make a commitment. Putting a Tarlington ring on Jocelyn’s finger would be impressive, even to an oil heiress who came from old Dallas money. She’d know, without a doubt, how much she meant to him. She’s the one for me, Brady.

Well, then. Congratulations, Brady offered.

Carter lifted his shot glass. Now that he’d made up his mind, he couldn’t wait to see Jocelyn’s expression when he proposed to her with a Tarlington diamond. To Jocelyn.

Brady hesitated for a second and stared into Carter’s eyes before lifting his glass, as well. To Jocelyn.

And after they downed the liquor, the smile Carter expected to see on his cousin’s face never really emerged.

One

Macy Tarlington never knew whether her attempt at disguise would work or not. Today, the beige scarf covering her ink-black curls and dark sunglasses hiding her violet-blue eyes seemed to do the trick. She hadn’t been followed. Thank goodness. She looked a little too much like her mother, which wasn’t overall a bad thing. Her mother had been known for her beauty, but resembling Hollywood’s beloved Queen of Cinema had drawn paparazzi to Macy like bees to honey. They believed her DNA alone gave them the right to trample on her privacy, especially during her time of mourning.

Tina Tarlington might have been world famous and her fans might have believed they knew everything about her, from her award-winning movie roles and her three doomed marriages to her celebrity status, but they hadn’t really known her. Not the way Macy had.

Walking into New York’s opulent Madison Avenue auction house made her twitch with anxiety. She bumped shoulders with her good friend, Avery Cullen, as they approached the Waverly salesroom. Avery was the least likely sort of American heiress, very unassuming and certainly not a spoiled cliché. Sorry if I’m crowding you, she whispered. I can’t seem to help it.

Avery’s warm smile reassured her as she took Macy’s arm. Her friend’s steady touch soothed her jumpy nerves. I don’t mind, Macy. That’s why I’m here, for support.

With eyes well hidden beneath sunglasses, Macy was free to dart glances all around, scoping out the large, elegantly appointed room where Tina Tarlington’s prized possessions would be auctioned off. Beautifully tufted, rounded high-back chairs were lined up in a dozen rows, split in the center by an aisle. The surrounding walls were easy-on-the-eye tones of beiges and light peach. Wide white wainscoting centered the walls and wrapped around the perimeter of the room. Multifaceted crystal chandeliers twinkled and provided abundant light overhead.

I can’t thank you enough for enduring this with me. Avery had made a quick trip from her home in London to be with her today.

I know how hard this is for you.

"Hard and necessary, unfortunately. Having my mother’s things on display like this gives me a stomachache. Oh, I am so not looking forward to this."

Avery gave Macy’s hand a squeeze as they pressed farther into the room. Those two seats on the aisle in the back are ours, Macy whispered. I made arrangements beforehand for us.

And as they headed to those seats, Macy noticed that every other chair in the room was taken. Even in death, Tina Tarlington drew large crowds.

An attendant came by immediately to hand them a catalogue listing the items being auctioned off, and after a brief conversation Macy nodded her thanks to the woman standing at the head of the room. Ann Richardson, the CEO of Waverly’s, who had secured the estate sale from Macy, gave her a silent greeting in return before turning to shake hands with the patrons in the front row. It was important to Ms. Richardson that the Tarlington auction go off without a hitch. Waverly’s stood to make a hefty commission.

Macy opened the catalogue and flipped through the pages, noting item after item from her mother’s estate. The descriptions were listed as lot numbers along with an estimate as to their value. The first item stopped her cold as memories flooded in and tears formed in her eyes.

On Macy’s tenth birthday, just as the celebration was about to begin, Tina had rushed into the Magic Castle Mansion, an exclusive club showcasing musicians from around the world, dressed as Eleanor Neal, the role which had garnered her an Academy Award nomination. She’d come straight from the set, the shoot going longer than anticipated. Macy hadn’t cared that her mother was late for her party or that she’d come in her professional makeup and wardrobe. She’d flown into her mother’s arms and hugged her so tight that Tina laughed until her mascara had run down her face. It was magic and one of the best birthdays of Macy’s life.

Now, the pink silk and sequin dress her mother had worn that day was described as "Worn by Tina Tarlington in the acclaimed film Quest for Vengeance, 1996."

Her mother’s entire life seemed to have been whittled down to one-sentence blurbs and numbers. The ache in Macy’s stomach intensified.

Discreetly, she closed the catalogue booklet and took a deep breath. She couldn’t fall apart. Not now. She had to go through with this auction. She gave herself a little pep talk, reciting in her head all the practical reasons why selling her mother’s treasures and jewels were necessary.

As she surveyed the room, people-watching, waiting for the auction to begin, she found the distraction she needed in a Stetson-wearing hunk of a man sitting across the aisle from her and one row up. His head was down, concentrating on the catalogue. The cowboy wore a crisp white shirt underneath a stylish Western suit coat that accentuated the solid breadth of his shoulders. The glint of silver from his bolo tie twinkled under the chandeliers. His profile was strong, grooved with a razor-sharp cheekbone and an angular jaw. He swung his head around and glanced at her for a split second, as if he suspected her of watching him. She panicked for an instant and held her breath. Luckily, he hadn’t lingered but went on to scan the rest of the room.

But oh my! When he’d turned, she’d gotten the full impact of his gaze and found him even more appealing than she’d originally thought. A crazy jolt of warmth surged through her body. The powerful sensation was new to Macy.

Butterflies replaced the turmoil in her stomach.

How strange.

She continued to grab eyefuls, shifting her gaze away occasionally to avoid being caught. She was grateful for her little disguise. It provided her freedom to peruse something more exciting than the auction.

The cowboy glanced over the seated bidders and up toward the podium time and again. He appeared anxious and impatient for the auction to begin.

A minute later, Ann Richardson took the podium with a welcome to everyone at the auction. After a cordial greeting, the CEO turned the microphone over to the auctioneer and he stepped up to the podium. The auction began and Macy watched as, one by one, bidders raised their paddles when the first gown was offered up.

Dear, sweet Avery sat vigilantly beside her, a pillar of quiet strength. When the auctioneer’s hammer fell, finalizing the winning bid, Avery squeezed her hand and whispered into her ear. Just remember, your mother would want you to do this.

Macy nodded and slid her eyes closed briefly. It was true. Her mother had loved her possessions, and heaven knew, she had not been good with money. But her mother had made a point of always making sure Macy had known that she, not her profession or her jewels, was the most important, most beloved thing in her life. Misguided as her mother’s life might have been, Macy knew she’d been loved. When her father, Clyde Tarlington, had died ten years ago, Tina might have given up, but she’d shown Macy what it was to be a survivor. To press on, even under adversity.

Once again, Macy glanced at her handsome cowboy, sitting patiently across the aisle. He’d taken off his hat, out of consideration to the people seated behind him, she presumed, as soon as the bidding had begun. His dark blond hair was well-groomed, thick and curling at the edge of his collar. The Stetson rested on his outstretched leg and Macy reeled in her wayward thoughts, thinking if she could only trade places with that hat.

The corners of her lips lifted at the idea. And Macy’s foolish heart skipped a beat.

His face was becoming familiar to her. He was a good diversion, a distraction that she couldn’t seem to shake. She was drawn to him, and she couldn’t figure out why. She lived in Hollywood, where gorgeous men were a dime a dozen. She’d acted in small movie roles opposite men more beautiful than any female starlet.

No, it wasn’t his looks that drew her to him. It was something else. He held himself with an air of confidence that belied his obvious discomfort seated in a venerable New York auction house.

She liked that about him.

For all she knew, he’d be more comfortable bidding on longhorn steers.

She liked that about him, too.

Another mental chuckle emerged. She had to stop fantasizing about him. Macy returned her attention to the auction, grateful to the cowboy for giving her something thrilling to admire while her mother’s life was being bartered away.

Soon the diamond rings would be up for sale.

Macy cringed and slithered down in her seat. She actually felt sorry for the people who wound up with them.

Three diamond rings. Three doomed marriages.

The rings are cursed, she whispered to Avery.

Her friend nodded ever so slightly. Then you should be glad to get rid of them.

Oh, she was. She was extremely glad. Those rings represented pain and heartache to anyone in their possession. The love surrounding those rings would never survive. Her mother’s three failed marriages were testimony enough. Each one of her marriages had been horrific in their own way, and Macy had begun thinking of the diamond rings as the Love Curse Diamonds. Of course, it wasn’t a good idea to tell that to the press. She needed the money too badly to risk lowering their value. But there were stories behind those diamonds and, unfortunately, Macy knew them all too well.

The bidding was to begin on the three-carat diamond that Clyde Tarlington had given to her mother. The setting was unique, a one of a kind. The nearly perfect gem had been placed in such a way that it formed a T with surrounding smaller diamonds nestled beside it to finish forming the letter. It was by far the most exquisite ring of the trio.

Avery nudged her shoulder and Macy, deep in thought, slid her friend a sideways glance. Take a look. She gestured across the aisle. That gorgeous cowboy you’ve been eyeing all afternoon is getting ready. I bet he bids on the Tarlington diamond.

* * *

Carter wanted that Tarlington diamond so bad he could taste it. He’d spend a small fortune on it, if it boiled down to that. He groaned with impatience.

The stately woman sitting next to him, her nose in the air, reacted to the sound he made with a high and mighty puff. Then her gaze shifted to the felt hat sitting on his lap. She gave him another sniff of disapproval.

Well, hell. He’d offended her.

Because he was in a good mood, being nearly engaged and all, he sent her a smile of apology.

The woman gripped her purse with thin wiry fingers and inched away from him without returning his smile. She didn’t bother to disguise her feelings. He didn’t fit in. She