Unfolding the sheet of paper she tried to brace herself. She felt as if her entire future hung on what was inside this envelope.
Her throat closed as she read the words, devouring them as quickly as her gaze could take them in. After only a few sentences, she let her gaze drop to the bottom line, her heart dropping with it: I’ll always love you, Mary.
This was the woman Chase said he was still in love with. She’d broken up with him and now she wanted him back? Who did this Mary Savage of Big Sky, Montana, think she was? Fury churned inside Fiona as she quickly read all the way through the letter, the words breaking her heart and filling her with an all-consuming rage.
Mary Savage had apparently pretended that she was only writing to Chase to let him know that some friend of his mother’s had dropped by with a package for him. If he confirmed his address, she’d be happy to send the package if he was interested.
But after that, the letter had gotten personal. Fiona stared at the words, fury warring with heartbreaking pain. The package was clearly only a ruse for the rest of the letter, which was a sickening attempt to lure him back. This woman was still in love with Chase. It made her sick to read the words that were such an obvious effort to remind him of their love, first love, and all that included. This woman had history with Chase. She missed him and regretted the way they’d left things. The woman had even included her phone number. In case he’d forgotten it?
Had Chase called her? The thought sent a wave of nausea through her, followed quickly by growing vehemence. She couldn’t believe this. This woman was not taking Chase away from her! She wouldn’t allow it. She and Chase had only gotten started, but Fiona knew that he was perfect for her and she for him. If anyone could help him get over this other woman, it was her. Chase was hers now. She would just have to make him see that.
Fiona tried to calm herself. The worst thing she could do was to confront Chase and demand to know why he had kept this from her. She didn’t need him to remind her that they didn’t have “that kind” of relationship as he had the other times. Not to mention how strained things had been between them lately. She’d felt him pulling away and had called and stopped by at every opportunity, afraid she was losing him.
And now she knew why. If the woman had been in Arizona, she would have gone to her house and—Deep breaths, she told herself. She had to calm down. She had to remember what had happened the last time. She’d almost ended up in jail.
Taking deep breaths, she reminded herself that this woman was no threat. Mary Cardwell Savage wasn’t in Arizona. She lived in Montana, hundreds of miles away.
But that argument did nothing to relieve her wrath or her growing apprehension. Chase hadn’t just kept the letter. He’d hidden it. His little secret. And worse, he was avoiding her, trying to give her the brush-off. She felt herself hyperventilating.
She knew she had to stop this. She thought of how good things had been between her and Chase that first night. The cowboy was so incredibly sexy, and he’d remarked how lovely she looked in her tailored suit and heels. He’d complimented her long blond hair as he unpinned it and let it fall around her shoulders. When he’d looked into her green eyes, she hadn’t needed him to tell her that he loved her. She had seen it.
The memory made her smile. And he’d enjoyed what she had waiting for him underneath that suit—just as she knew he would. They’d both been a little drunk that night. She’d had to make all the moves, but she hadn’t minded.
Not that she would ever admit it to him, but she’d set her sights on him the moment she’d seen him at the party. There was something about him that had drawn her. A vulnerability she recognized. He’d been hurt before. So had she, too many times to count. She’d told herself that the handsome cowboy didn’t know just how perfect he was, perfect for her.
Fiona hadn’t exactly thrown herself at him. She’d just been determined to make him forget that other woman by making herself indispensable. She’d brought over dinner the next night. He’d been too polite to turn her away. She’d come up with things they could do together: baseball games, picnics, movies. But the harder she’d tried, the more he’d made excuses for why he couldn’t go with her.
She stared down at the letter still in her hands, wanting to rip it to shreds, to tear this woman’s eyes out, to—
Suddenly she froze. Was that the door of the apartment opening? It was. Just as she’d feared, Chase had come home early.
At the sound of the door closing and locking, she hurriedly refolded the letter, slipped it back into the envelope and shoved it under his socks. She was trapped. There was no way to get out of the apartment without him seeing her. He was going to be upset with her. But the one thing she couldn’t let Chase know was that she’d found and read the letter. She couldn’t give him an excuse to break things off indefinitely, even though she knew he’d been trying to do just that for the past couple of weeks—ever since he’d gotten that letter.
She hurried to the bedroom door, but hesitated. Maybe she should get naked and let him find her lying on his bed. She wasn’t sure she could pull that off right now. Standing there, she tried to swallow back the anger, the hurt, the fear. She couldn’t let him know what she was feeling—let alone how desperate she felt. But as she heard him coming up the stairs, she had a terrifying thought.
What if she’d put the letter back in the drawer wrong? Had she seen the woman’s handwriting on the envelope? Wasn’t that why she’d felt such a jolt? Or was it just seeing the pale lavender paper of the envelope in his sock drawer that had made her realize what it was?
She couldn’t remember.
But would Chase remember how he’d left it and know that she’d seen it? Know that if she’d found it, she would read it?
She glanced back and saw that she hadn’t closed the top dresser drawer all the way. Hurrying back over to it, she shut the drawer as quietly as possible and was about to turn when she heard him in the doorway.
“Fiona? What the hell?” He looked startled at first when he saw her, and then shock quickly turned to anger.
She could see that she’d scared him. He’d scared her too. Her heart was a drum in her chest. She was clearly rattled. She could feel the fine mist of perspiration on her upper lip. With one look, he would know something was wrong.
But how could she not be upset? The man she’d planned to marry had kept a letter from his ex a secret from her. Worse, the woman he’d been pining over when Fiona had met him was still in love with him—and now he knew it. Hiding the letter proved that he was at least thinking about Mary Cardwell Savage.
“What are you doing here?” Chase demanded, glancing around as if the answer was in the room. “How the hell did you get in this time?”
She tried to cover, letting out an embarrassed laugh. “You startled me. I was looking for my favorite lipstick. I thought I might have left it here.”
He shook his head, raking a hand through his hair. “You have to stop this. I told you last time. Fiona—” His blue gaze swept past her to light on the chest of drawers.
Any question as to how he felt about the letter was quickly answered by his protective glance toward the top bureau drawer and the letter from his first love, the young woman who’d broken his tender heart, the woman he was still in love with.
Her own heart broke, shattering
