Fortune's Forbidden Woman. Heidi Betts

to their father. Case’s wife, Gina, Blake’s fiancée, Sasha, and Max’s wife, Diana—the two were back in town—made up the rest of the circle, with empty chairs in between for the missing men. They sipped lemonade from tall, hand-painted glasses and munched on potato chips and an assortment of vegetables surrounding a large bowl of dip.

      A couple of servants bustled around them unobtrusively, topping off drinks, making sure the platters of food never emptied and providing anything else the family might need.

      Across the verandah, at a shiny silver gas grill the size of a small car, Case, Blake, the Australian cousin, Max, Eliza’s husband, Reese, and Skylar’s New Zealander husband, Zack, stood together. The men were holding frosted mugs of frothy, imported beer and arguing good-naturedly about how well-done the steaks sizzling on the hot rack should be.

      And, of course, there was Creed. He stood out from the rest, seeming taller, darker, more handsome. He was also the one manning the grill, holding the others at bay with a long metal spatula that he wielded like a sword before turning to flip the big chunks of browning meat.

      Maya’s stomach tightened at the sight and at the memories that flooded her of their single night together.

      Creed, she was sure, would be plagued by no such thoughts or memories. He was over her, remember? Now that he’d had her, she was out of his system.

      That’s what he’d said, his parting shot as he’d turned and walked out of her bedroom, out of her house.

      Too bad he hadn’t also walked out of her life. She wouldn’t be standing here, struggling for breath and feeling like she might throw up, if he had.

      She didn’t know which was worse—having to attend a Fortune family gathering when she wasn’t a part of the family…or having to face Creed so soon after her intimate humiliation at his hands.

      Without her mother there to make her feel more at ease, she almost wanted to turn around and leave before anyone noticed her, especially Creed. But she knew how much Patricia loved Nash, and that she wouldn’t want him to be unhappy. Maya also knew that her mother would want her to do whatever she could to try to ease Nash’s burden.

      That meant attending this party, in spite of her personal reservations.

      Taking a deep breath, she stepped out onto the verandah with a smile on her face, hoping no one would notice how forced it was.

      Nash spotted her first and rose from his place at the table to greet her.

      “Maya, sweetheart! You’re here.”

      He hugged her and kissed her cheek, and at least a portion of her grin turned genuine.

      “Happy birthday,” she told him, handing him the beribboned gift, a gold money clip engraved with his initials.

      “You didn’t have to do that,” he said, but the corners of his eyes crinkled with pleasure. He took the present and set it with a pile of other brightly wrapped boxes of varying sizes on a low cedar bench along the outer wall of the house.

      “Come sit down,” he invited, taking her hand and leading her over to the table. The women smiled in greeting, the men waving and calling out from the other side of the verandah.

      Only one person failed to say hello and looked less than pleased by her arrival. From the corner of her eye, she saw Creed’s expression tighten, his hard gaze on her as he lifted the mug of beer to his lips and took a long swallow.

      He certainly wasn’t looking at her like a man who’d recently shared her bed…or wanted to repeat the experience. In fact, she couldn’t say he was looking at her any differently than he ever had.

      The realization shouldn’t have wounded her, but it did, sending an arrow straight through her heart.

      Before she could dwell much longer on his indifference toward her, Gina handed her a glass of lemonade and patted the seat of the chair to her left. The sleeveless denim shirt she wore over white shorts completely hid any signs of her pregnancy. Of course, she was only a few months along, still in the first trimester, and they had only just recently shared the news with the family.

      Skylar, however, looked ready to pop, even though she still had a couple of months to go before her due date. Once the baby was born and it was safe for them to travel, she and Zach would be going back to New Zealand. They would return to the States to visit, but that’s where they planned to make their home.

      Maya felt a tiny stab of envy at the picture-perfect lives of the people surrounding her. They were all so happy together, and now positively ecstatic about the impending births of the next generation of Fortunes.

      And they deserved it. No doubt about it. But Maya couldn’t help the longing and regret that welled up within her when she compared their level of happiness with her own.

      She and Nash, it seemed, were the only ones whose lives were in shambles. And at least her stepfather’s misery was reasonable and already public, so he didn’t have to hide his emotions from everyone. Maya, however, spent the majority of her time pretending to be happier than she was, while inside she felt like weeping.

      Sparing a quick glance at Creed, who was busy flipping the steaks again, she decided he didn’t belong in the same category as Nash and her. He didn’t look miserable in the least, and she was pretty sure he had no interest in settling down anytime soon. Certainly not with her, at any rate.

      “Sit down and join us,” Gina said with an inviting smile. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

      “Thank you.” Maya took a seat between Nash and Skylar, reaching for a chip and holding on to her glass so she would have something to do with her hands.

      “The guys keep saying the steaks will be done soon,” Eliza said, her lips twisted wryly. “If you ask me, though, I don’t think they know what they’re doing. It’s been about two hours now, and this rabbit food just isn’t cutting it anymore.”

      Eliza rolled her eyes and flicked a hand over the vegetable tray. “We should have insisted on bringing in caterers or whipping up something a little more civilized, the way we girls wanted, instead of letting the men devise the menu.”

      “Oh, let them go,” Diana said with a light chuckle. “They’re enjoying themselves over there, drinking and flexing their muscles. And we can pay them back later when we start talking about babies and nurseries and wedding plans.” She cast her gaze around the table at the two expectant mothers and one soon-to-be newlywed.