Secret Agent Groom (The Bridal Circle #2) Read online

  He’d felt desire before, but never like this. Never so strong that he could practically smell his flesh burning. Never so strong that he thought his heart would burst. It was as if Heather had cast a spell on him.

  She stirred slightly and his breath caught. What was he doing, watching her like this? He sped over to the other window, checked it and was back in the living room in a half second. He didn’t even give himself time to catch his breath, but went into the kitchen to call Casio.

  “Where the hell have you been?” his supervisor demanded. “I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”

  Alex ignored his question. “We have a problem,” he said quietly. “I had two visitors tonight.”

  “Damn.” The man’s anger had vanished. “You okay?”

  “Got a lump about the size of Connecticut on the back of my head,” he said. “But, otherwise, I’m okay.”

  “I never expected that strong a reaction,” Casio said.

  Junior came into the kitchen, causing Alex’s stomach to tighten. He’d been trying to talk softly, but obviously not softly enough. He turned toward the outside door, hoping it would muffle his voice.

  “I don’t think they intended it to happen,” he explained. “But that’s not the problem. They thought Heather’s house was mine. That Heather and I were living together.”

  “So?”

  “Damn it,” Alex huffed into the phone. “She’s in danger.”

  “How the hell do you figure she’s in danger? You’re the one taking out the loans. You’re the one gambling.”

  “What if they come after her to make a point with me?”

  “I thought you said there was nothing going on between you two,” Casio said.

  But Alex barely heard him. Through the window in the door, he could see the street—and the car moving slowly down it, lights off. Was it his imagination or was it slowing down as it passed his house and Heather’s?

  Heather picked the book up from the living room floor, then reached over to turn the lamp off. The room was filled with the faint early light of dawn, but she could still see Alex asleep on the sofa, Junior resting on the floor next to him and Bonnie tucked in by Alex’s arm. It was enough to bring a tear to Heather’s eye.

  This was an Alex no one ever saw, one that most wouldn’t even believe existed. Yet she had been given a peek at this other side of him when she’d seen him with Bonnie, and now she knew for certain that secret, gentler self really did exist.

  She’d come out to check on him an hour or so ago, only to get a lecture that he was fine. Typical macho tough-guy attitude. But she wouldn’t be fooled by it any longer.

  She thought back to the Alex she knew as a young boy. He had loved baseball and climbing trees and doing anything with his dad. She remembered seeing them play catch in the backyard, washing the car together. even shoveling the snow together. He hadn’t been looking for adventure then.

  It was after his father had died of cancer that Alex’d changed. That he’d become the macho tough guy, accepting every dare, living every moment on the edge. Always needing to be the center of attention, as if he were afraid that no one would like him otherwise. Did he still feel that way, or had he just gotten so used to the excitement that he thought he couldn’t live without it?

  She thought about that phone call last night—actually she’d been thinking of little else since she’d heard it. All of Alex’s wild ways, his flirting with danger was going to come to a head soon. What would he do when she warned him? She frowned, knowing full well what he’d do.

  Tough guy Alex would tough it out. He’d pretend it didn’t matter, that everything was fine. That he could handle it.

  And that gentle side of him would be buried deeper and deeper until it wouldn’t even slip through in moments like this. Was there a way to save Alex from himself? Was there a way to free him from his craving for excitement so that the gentler side of him could be given a chance?

  She must have sighed or stirred or made some slight sound for little Bonnie lifted her head and yawned. Heather smiled at her in spite of her worries. The tiny kitten had come so far from the frightened little feral cat that she and Alex had rescued two weeks ago. Once Bonnie had dared to trust—

  An idea suddenly took hold of Heather’s mind. Did she dare? It was truly outrageous, but it also might be the only way to save Alex. And he had agreed with the principle last mght. Of course they had been talking about Bonnie, but agreeing was agreeing.

  Dorothy put the last clip in her hair and stepped back to look at the effect in the mirror. Yuck. She needed to look sophisticated, yet casually so. Parisian. This was an art gallery that drew in tourists. She couldn’t look like one.

  That was probably the whole trouble. She still looked like a tourist so the locals were just being touristy friendly to her, not friendly friendly. And there were so many bistros and cafés to visit, she probably just hadn’t found the one that was right for her, that had the people in it that would be her new friends. No, she just had to be patient and give herself time. This would start to feel like home soon.

  The shrill ringing of the phone split the silence, much to her amazement. Who in the world would be calling her? Brad and Penny had left Paris last week. She stared at the instrument for a long moment as if expecting it to be some sort of prank.

  It could be her new boss at the art gallery. Maybe he didn’t want her to work there after all. Oh, that would be all she needed. She tossed the hair clips onto the dresser and scrambled over the bed for the phone.

  “Dorothy?”

  “Heather?” Dorothy sat down on the edge of the bed in disbelief.

  “Hey, I promised to stay in touch.”

  “ Yeah, but—” Dorothy looked at her watch, for some unknown reason still set at Chesterton time. “But it’s barely five o’clock in the morning there.”

  “I always get up early. And I thought this would be early for you. Penny said everyone in Paris stays up all night so I thought you wouldn’t get up until the afternoon.”

  “Well, not quite everyone.” Dorothy hoped her laugh hid the reality of her life here. “How are you? How’s everyone there?”

  Damn. Heather probably thought she was asking about Toto.

  “I’m fine. Everybody’s fine.”

  Everybody? That was all she got, a generic everybody? “That’s good,” she said brightly in spite of the tightening of her lips. She frowned at a speck of lint on her skirt and scraped at it. “I’m really glad to hear it. Brad and Penny get home all right?”

  “Oh, yeah. Lots of great stories. It made us all wish we could go to Paris.”

  She left the lint alone. “Us all?”

  “You know, Aunty Em and me. Mrs. Fogarty. Nancy Abbott.”

  But not Toto. Not that she was surprised or disappointed. She didn’t care a bit what he didn’t do or where he didn’t go.

  “How’s Junior?” Dorothy asked, then fell back on the bed in annoyance with herself. Of all the dumb, revealing questions.

  “Junior?” Heather laughed. “Actually, he’s staying with us for a few days.”

  There was something in Heather’s voice. “Us?” Dorothy repeated.

  Heather laughed, an off sound that just didn’t ring quite true. “Me and Victoria and Henry and the new kitty, Bonnie.”

  “Oh. That must be fun for you all.”

  “I guess.” She paused and Dorothy could feel her hesitation. “Actually I was calling for a reason. I was wondering if you could help me.”

  “I’ll be glad to try.” It must be something awfully important to warrant a transatlantic phone call.

  “I was wondering about that cabin you used earlier this summer. You know, the one owned by that couple you met in Florida. I thought you said it was going to be empty all summer and that you could use it whenever you wanted.”

  “Yes,” Dorothy said slowly. “It’s in the upper peninsula a bit northwest of a little town called Watton. Why?”

  Heather cleared her throa
t, a sure sign she was embarrassed. “Well, I was wondering if I could use it this weekend.”

  “You want to rough it in the wilds of northern Michigan?” Timid, mousy Heather wanted to spend a week isolated in the middle of nowhere with erratic electricity and a forest full of things that growled, howled and prowled all night? “Is this really Heather Mahoney or some imposter?”

  Heather laughed, a real laugh this time, but then her voice turned serious. “I wasn’t actually going by myself,” she said carefully. “A friend was going to come with. We just wanted a little time alone and thought a long weekend away would be great.”

  “I see.” And she did. She was surprised, she had to admit. She hadn’t thought Heather had anyone special. But she had been gone for several weeks. Things were bound to have changed in that time.

  “Not that we’ll really be alone,” Heather said with a laugh. “Junior’s coming along to keep the wildlife away from me, and I’ve got to take the kitten I’m socializing or I’ll be back at square one when I return.”

  “Of course, you can use the cabin,” Dorothy assured her. “Use it for as long as you want. You going up soon?”

  “This morning,” Heather said. Her voice reflected relief and excitement. “I’m going to skip the teachers’ workshops. Well, once I make a quick call to Aunty Em and see if she or Penny can keep an eye on the cats for me.”

  “I sure hope you have fun.”

  “Oh, I expect we will.”

  Dorothy found her heart getting heavier and heavier as she recited the directions, and was downright morose by the time she got off the phone. Her friends were moving on with life without her. It was normal and what she wanted, but sad, too.

  Chapter Nine

  Alex woke up to the smell of coffee and warm bread. No, those things would make it a dream, so he couldn’t be waking up. There was no coffee until he made some and—

  He felt faint warm breath in his face and his eyes flew open. He was lying on a sofa with a cat sitting on his chest, staring at him. Last night came rushing back. The confrontation with the thugs. The bump on his head. Heather’s stubbornness in bringing him into her house. His driving need for her touch.

  The cat fled as Alex started to sit up, which was just as well. Every muscle in his body ached and his head felt ready to explode. But there was a deeper hurt that he couldn’t quite locate, a stronger one than the others combined. Just went to show what a bad idea it was to let anyone into his life, even marginally.

  “Oh, you’re up.”

  Heather was way across the room standing in the doorway to the kitchen, but her soft voice easily wrapped itself around his aching heart. He looked over at her—his heart as fearful as it was eager—and his eyes drank in her gentleness, the beauty of her smile and the warmth in her eyes. Just looking at her made him feel better. Stronger. More alive.

  She was so beautiful, even in simple shorts and a T-shirt. Like a fragile flower. And her delicate innocence made his world seem all the more sordid. All the more dirty. All the more necessary that he protect her and keep her safe.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  “Fine. Great.”

  He got to his feet with gusto, ignoring the screaming protests of his stiff muscles. He’d made a decision during the long hours of last night, and seeing her this morning only brought back the urgency of it all. He had to get her away from here. A few months out of town would be perfect. A few weeks, pretty good. But for now he’d settle for a long weekend. It would be time enough to convince Casio that she needed protection.

  She turned from the doorway, disappearing into the kitchen. “I hope I didn’t wake you up,” she called back to him. “I tried to be quiet.”

  “I didn’t hear you at all,” he said, watching the doorway for her return. “I’m just not a late sleeper.”

  He told himself that he didn’t miss her, that that ache in the region of his heart was the result of sleeping on this short sofa. He just needed to stretch the kinks out. Good idea. Bending down, he put his hands on the floor and stretched his leg muscles.

  It probably would have been better if he’d stayed awake as he had intended to. Stayed up and kept watch. He knew that was unrealistic—he had needed sleep—but he didn’t like the vulnerability that sleep brought. And it wasn’t just the fact the thugs had been by last night. He had never liked sleeping when someone else was moving around.

  “How’s your head?” Heather was back with a cup of coffee. “Do you want cream or sugar? I just brought it black.”

  “The head’s fine.” He straightened up. “And black is great. Just how I like it.” How had she known? Not that it mattered. He took the cup gratefully and sipped at the steaming liquid. “This is a luxury.”

  She’d been starting back toward the kitchen, but frowned at him over her shoulder. “How so?”

  “I don’t get coffee served to me at home.” He followed her into the other room.

  “Want some breakfast or do you want to shower first?”

  “I’ll shower when I get back home,” he said. “I’ll just clean up a little here, if you don’t mind.” There were some things they had to discuss.

  “Of course, I don’t mind,” she said with a snap to her voice. “And I’m not sure you ought to be going home. Unless it’s just to get clean clothes.”

  She took his breath away. A small, fragile-looking woman with red cheeks and fiery eyes. Ready to go to war over his well-being. He didn’t know what it was—her passion or her beauty—but it bowled him over. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and hold her.

  No, he wanted more than that. Much more. He wanted to make love to her, over and over again. He wanted to feel her warmth surround him and be lost in her womanliness. But surprisingly, he wanted even more. He had such a craving for her tenderness that it almost scared him.

  It had to be the knock he’d taken to his head. That and the few hours of sleep he got. He helped himself to another cup of coffee, then turned toward her. “Want a refill?”

  “Sure.”

  He filled her cup, noticing the faint floral scent about her, but not letting it trouble him. Just as the soft moistness of her lips did not draw him. He put the coffeepot back on the coffeemaker and sat down at the table.

  “I can’t believe it’s almost Labor Day,” he said. “I’m really looking forward to the long weekend.”

  “Me, too,” she said and then got to her feet. “What would you like for breakfast? Toast? Cereal? Bacon and eggs?”

  “Toast would be great,” he said. “So have you got any plans for the weekend? Hey, I bet it would be a good time to go visit your folks in Arizona,” he added as if the idea had just occurred to him.

  “Actually,” she started, her voice slow, uncertain. “Actually, I was supposed to go up to the upper peninsula to help Ida Crawford close her cabin up for the season and then drive her back home like I always do.”

  “And why aren’t you?”

  “Toto was going to drive me up there and then Ida and I would come back in her car on Monday, but it turns out Toto’s pulled an extra shift and can’t do it.”

  “Is that all?” Alex practically laughed aloud. “Heck, I can fix that. I can drive you up there.”

  “I thought I was going to drive,” Alex said, trying again to find a comfortable position in the passenger seat. There wasn’t one. Every position he tried in the past three hours had put him too close to Heather to think clearly. Maybe he should have had Junior sit in the front and he take the back with Bonnie and her carrier.

  “If I remember correctly,” Heather told him, “you got a severe bump to your head last night. And a concussion is nothing to joke about.”

  “The concussion is your diagnosis, not mine.”

  None of this was turning out the way he had envisioned. They should have taken his car which was built for speed, not Heather’s standard-model sedan. Except that his had somehow acquired a flat tire overnight. And he would have left Junior and Bon
nie at home, in spite of Heather’s insistence that she had promised to dog-sit Junior and Bonnie’s socialization couldn’t be interrupted. The animals would slow them down if trouble found them.

  And he definitely should be driving. He was the one trained in evasive maneuvers. He was the one who could push a car to its maximum. He was the one who could spot danger before it spotted them. All reasons why he should be at the wheel. But Heather wouldn’t hear of it.

  “It would have been the doctor’s diagnosis too, if you’d’ve let me take you to the emergency room.” Heather carefully passed a slow-moving semitrailer truck, then got back into the right-hand lane. “Besides, I’m a good driver. I’ve never been in an accident and never even got a ticket.”

  She reached over to adjust the air-conditioning, her hand coming all too close to his knee. Just a little farther and she would—

  He moved his leg and forced his thoughts back to this whole issue of protection. “So, tell me about this cabin. Where’s it at exactly?”

  “Exactly?” She glanced at him, her blue eyes dark with confusion. “You mean, like latitude and longitude?”

  His thoughts tried to stray back to those eyes of hers, and other things that might make them darken. Fear. Wonder. Passion. But he pulled his attention back to business. There had been a note in her voice that tightened his nerves a notch. Could she be hiding something or was he getting paranoid?

  “Is the cabin in Watton or out in the country?” he asked.

  “It’s in the country,” she said. “But then, Watton is pretty much country itself.”

  And what did that mean? He let his glance linger over her for a moment—but in a professional way. Heather was soft and gentle and trusting. A teddy bear pajama person. To her, country would be baby raccoons and fireflies at dusk. Finding wildflowers blooming among the stones of a shallow creek and nights so dark you could wish on even the dimmest stars.