Free Contract to Wed by Holly Bush Page A

raised his hand in greeting. “Timothy. Emma Jean. How was
the ride out?” he asked as they were helped down from the closed carriage.
    “Fine,” Timothy said and walked forward to shake his hand.
“Good to see you, Max.”
    Emma Jean joined them, and she leaned up and kissed him on
both cheeks. “It’s been forever and a day, Max. Still handsome as always,” she
said and reached up to rub her lip rouge from his face.
    Max turned to Jolene and was speechless momentarily. She was
looking up at him with a lovely smile as if he were the only man in the world.
“This . . .  this is my bride, Jolene.”
    She turned her attention and charm to Timothy and Emma Jean
then. “Maximillian has told me so much about you! I’m glad to finally meet
you.” She held Timothy’s hand and then stepped between the men to hold both of
Emma Jean’s hands in hers. “I just know we’re going to be fast friends,” she
said as she slipped her arm through Emma Jean’s and turned them to the foyer.
“Please come in.”
    Zeb was staring at him. Max clapped Timothy on the back.
“Let’s follow the women folk. They know where the food and the liquor is,” he
said with a laugh.
    Jolene led them to a sitting area on one of the shaded side
porches where honeysuckle climbed thick on trellises, blooming and fragrant.
Candles were lit, and a cart was filled with decanters and glasses. The
furniture had been moved together so a settee and three chairs were gathered
around a low table. Jolene led Emma Jean to the settee and sat down with her.
    “Maximillian? I would love a lemonade. I believe there is a
pitcher there on the cart. Would you like one, Emma Jean?”
    Max poured the drinks and took them to the women. Jolene was
laughing softly at something Timothy had said. It was a throaty, sexy sound.
She looked up at him and pursed her lips in perfect little pout. So Jolene’s
intention was to show Timothy and Emma Jean that they were a love match. He
understood her reasoning. He’d wondered what people would think, knowing that
he and his wife had never met and that the only reason she agreed to marry him
was that her husband had left her next to nothing after his death.
    Max handed Emma Jean her glass and put Jolene’s in her hands
and held them there. He bent down and kissed her softly on the lips and heard
her sharp intake of breath. He straightened and brushed his knuckles across her
cheek.
    “Oh, the newlyweds,” Emma Jean said and reached for her
husband’s hand. “They are so sweet. You must tell us how you met.”
    “Well,” Jolene said and touched a finger to her lips. “I’m a
widow and have known Maximillian’s sister, Eugenia, for years. She suggested we
correspond, and we did. And then Maximillian asked me to marry him. And I said
yes.”
    “How romantic!” Emma Jean said.
    Over dinner, Jolene steered the conversation to him and his
ambitions to run for the Senate. She had orchestrated the rooms, the meals, the
staff, and even their relationship. Timothy and Emma Jean were clearly charmed.
    After brandy, Jolene offered to show Timothy and Emma Jean
to their room, and he and Zeb sat alone together at the table sipping the end
of their drinks.
    “She is quite the actress,” Zeb said.
    “She is at that.”
    “Best be careful,” Zeb replied as he stood and left the
room.
    A few minutes later, he turned when he heard someone come in.
Jolene walked up to him, and he couldn’t help but look her over from top to
toe. That kiss had lingered in his mind.
    She stopped short and whispered. “Do not ever dare again to
make use of my person as you did tonight.”
    He could see she was spitting mad. “Well, hell, Jolene,
you’re the one that started it, looking up at me and smiling and hanging on my
arm.”
    “Slipping my arm through yours hardly compares to what you
did,” she said as she poured a glass of brandy. She turned to the door carrying
her drink.
    “Jolene,” he said. She stopped but did not turn back.