He looked around for his dad, finding him in conversation with the uncles, the barest smile on his mouth. A big Nordic man with quick discerning blue eyes and blond hair slowly turning to gray, he carried authority despite his age and the heart condition that necessitated surgery a few months ago.

His mother took a seat next to Daisy and stared at him with her sly brown eyes that usually knew more than he liked. “Glad to see you survived your trip. I haven’t seen Kate’s friend though. I hope you didn’t leave her behind at a gas station or try to sell her to the gypsies.”

“Tempting, but no,” he said, a smile tugging at his mouth. The gypsy thing was an old joke his mother used to say when they were kids as a threat when they got out of line. Until he was eight, he’d actually expected they would arrive for him one day and take him away, since he and Dominic made being naughty an art. “We managed to get here just fine. You can even ask Dominic. He saw her. She’s probably cornered somewhere by that mother of hers.”

At this the women all visibly shuddered. “She’s definitely something to get used to,” Daisy said with some restraint.

“Get used to? I’d sooner have an enema every day than be subjected to that woman,” Benny said. “She’s only been here a couple of hours, but I’ve already seen the hotel staff run and hide, crossing themselves whenever they spot her. Kate at least managed to get her isolated out at the pool—under proper shade, she insisted—and out of the staff’s hair for a little while.”

“Yeah. I hear she’s a pill.” Cruz took another drink and considered the possibility of hunting down Payton himself. Just to make sure she was okay.

No. That wasn’t necessary. Payton was a grown woman. She had to decide what she did and didn’t want. If she didn’t want Brad, then she had to be strong enough to resist her mother’s threats. In fact, after the spirit and spunk Payton had shown the last few days, maybe it was her mother he should be worried about.

Then he thought about the restrictive diet the woman imposed on her already beautiful daughter. The way she’d manipulated Payton into giving up her dreams of practicing environmental law for a position as part-time party planner. How the woman thought Payton’s only value was in being the trophy wife to a dipshit like Brad Eastman.

He got to his feet, ignoring his sisters’ curious stares. Maybe he’d just make a quick appearance after all.

Payton knew from the quick rap on the door, insistent and terrifying, that her mother was on the other side. She smoothed invisible lines on the sundress she’d slipped on moments before, glad she’d had the chance to apply a minimal amount of makeup to meet her mother’s approval, and went and answered the door.

Her mother stood there in a knee-length apricot-colored skirt and matching jacket, her mouth turned down in that perpetual frown she’d perfected, as she stared at her daughter. She took a step closer and Payton got a good waft of her mother’s perfume, something she’d always thought heavy and overbearing. Perfect for her mother.

“Well I can see you didn’t listen to a word I said about applying sunblock and wearing hats. Your face is positively tanned and splotchy. We’ll need a good layer of foundation to cover those freckles along your cheeks,” she said and swept into the room, wheeling her carry-on behind her.

Payton shut the door, gritting her teeth before forcing a smile. Her mother left her luggage by the couch and walked around the suite, looking into the bedroom, the bathroom, and then joining her back in the living area. “It’s a little small but it should do.”

“Should do for what?” Payton asked slowly, already knowing the answer.

“A stage for the New York Rockettes. Really, Payton?” she said in her most exasperated tone. “For our stay here. What else?”

“I wasn’t under the impression this was our hotel suite. In fact, I’m not even sure why you thought it was necessary to come down here at all. But now that you’re here and can see I arrived in one piece and in relatively good health, save for a little tan, you might as well head home. I’m sure you can find a taxi to get you to the airport. I’ll see if the front desk can do that right now.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Payton. I’m not about to leave you in Mexico without a proper companion. No, when I leave, it will be with you. I already had my agent book the two of us on a flight tomorrow afternoon.”

Her mother went over to the sliding glass doors and tried to open it, struggling with the latch. “You’d think that Kate could have picked a hotel with more class, though. There was a perfectly lovely five diamond hotel just a little further north.”

“The hotel is fine. Actually, it’s beautiful. It’s a perfect place for Kate and Dominic to share the biggest day of their lives with all the people they care for. A five diamond hotel isn’t something that most people could realistically manage nor would Kate expect it.”

“Yes.” Her mother sniffed and finally thrust the door open. “I’ve met a number of that…brood.”

Payton didn’t want to hear her mother’s litany against Cruz’s family and turned the conversation back to the issue of the room. “Maybe you should contact that other hotel. I’m sure you’d be more comfortable in your own private room at a top resort. There’s only one bed here, and I know how much you hate squirmers,” Payton couldn’t help adding in a more patronizing voice.

When Payton was little and went through a phase of nightmares, no amount of begging her mother to let her sleep with her worked. Her mother claimed Payton just squirmed way too much for anyone to get any rest. It was also the reason she had offered when Payton asked why her father took a room down the hall from her mother’s—she couldn’t tolerate the squirming—although now Payton had her suspicions on the real reason for that arrangement.

Her mother sighed heavily. “I’m not looking forward to sharing a bed with you anymore than you are with me, but I’ve told you, I’m not leaving you to your own devices in a strange country. Not even for a night.” Her mother sat on the edge of a chair and crossed her legs. She stared at her daughter another moment, letting Payton know she was waiting for something.

Payton stared back.

“Oh fine,” her mother said finally. “You know, you haven’t asked me one detail about how things are coming along with the wedding planning. But despite that glaring lack of manners, I’ll share with you anyway. We’ve heard back from nearly everyone and you’ll be happy to know that we have nearly one hundred percent acceptance. I’ve also had a few very heavy-handed hints for invitations, but as I’ve explained, we’re already at capacity.”

Payton nodded. She wasn’t going to yell. Not today. “I might be happy about such a high acceptance rate if there was going to be a ceremony. At this point, the only way I could see it happening is if you decide to slip into that too-small designer dress and marry Brad yourself. Because it’s not going to be me.”

“Are we really back to this again, Payton? I would have thought you’d be over this little fit of yours by now. If you’d actually call Brad and hear him out—something I did when he called me last night, heartsick and broken up about the misunderstanding from the other day—”

“I didn’t misunderstand that there was a naked woman in his bed or Brad’s equally naked body. Are you trying to tell me you don’t think he was screwing her?”

“You don’t have to be vulgar.”

Her mother looked at Payton again and shook her head, her pristine, almost white blonde hair not moving from its sleek French bun. Her mother once heard someone liken her to a young Tippi Hedren from those old Hitchcock movies and had been wearing that signature hairstyle ever since. The only thing missing from her ensemble right now was a pair of white arm length gloves, but that would be too much, even for her mother.