The Stolen Bride Page 8

  “I’m also the best man,” Gene reminded him. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to try to persuade her to take him back. That’s his job.”

  Erin decided that, with Joseph standing by, he posed no immediate danger. She swung the chair around. “I’m right here.”

  Across the large room, Gene, still in his tuxedo, made an odd picture beside Joseph’s taller, more powerful form. Despite the dirt on one knee and a leaf clinging to his dark blond hair, there was nothing laughable about Tina’s brother.

  His thin face and wiry form burned with the same nervous energy that, in high school, he’d applied to trying to make other kids feel inferior. Since he was whip-smart, that hadn’t been difficult. She’d been glad when he left to attend UC Santa Barbara, after which he’d worked as a stockbroker for a while alongside Chet.

  Gene had found his calling when he volunteered in the reelection campaign of a local assemblyman and did so well he was offered a job. After a stint in Sacramento, he’d returned to link up with his former co-worker.

  Erin wondered how far he would go to protect his candidate. It hadn’t even occurred to her until Chief Norris mentioned it that her actions might have harmed Chet politically.

  Gene scowled on seeing her but quickly rearranged his features into an approximation of civility. “I have a request.”

  “From you or from Chet?”

  “Both.”

  Joseph assumed a watchful stance. His caution reminded Erin not to let down her guard.

  “I’m listening.” She kept her distance. The acoustics were fine from across the room.

  “Chet wants your family to issue a press release to the effect that you suffered a relapse and the wedding has been postponed.”

  “Postponed?” Joseph said.

  “Indefinitely.”

  “And you expect the press to accept that and go away quietly?” Erin didn’t try to hide her skepticism. “They’re not gullible.”

  Gene had a ready answer. “The release will explain that you’d deliberately planned the ceremony to take place before the campaign got into full swing. In view of your condition, he doesn’t want to expose you to the stress of an election, so it won’t be rescheduled until after March. By then, the whole business will be old history and you can quietly call off the engagement.”

  Joseph’s eyebrows did their bunching thing. He wasn’t convinced of the necessity of this ruse, she gathered, and neither was she. If Chet had come up with this scheme in order to keep her dangling, she wanted no part of it. “I need a reassurance that he’ll leave me strictly alone. I am not going to marry him.”

  “Don’t you get it? This isn’t about marching you down the aisle; it’s about protecting my candidate from embarrassment.” Gene paced back and forth, gesturing choppily for emphasis. “All it takes is one comedian making Runaway Bride jokes, and he gets laughed out of the running.”

  He had a point. Erin wanted out of the relationship and she resented Chet’s manipulations, but she wasn’t vindictive. “All right.”

  Gene hesitated. “You’re agreeing? Just like that?”

  “That’s what ‘all right’ usually means,” she said.

  Joseph gave his head a small, almost involuntary shake. “Erin, are you sure about this?”

  “Stay out of it!” Gene’s hands balled into fists. A second look at Joseph made him drop the pugnacious posture, but it didn’t stop him from glaring.

  Ignoring him, Joseph addressed Erin. “I understand your not wanting to embarrass Chet, but this means you’d still be engaged to the man. As your fiancé, he could find ways to pressure you. No matter what Gene says, Chet hasn’t given up on marrying you.”

  Erin expected an outburst from their visitor. Instead, he said reluctantly, “I suppose you’ve got a point. Frankly, it’s an area where I disagree with the candidate.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. I think,” she said.

  Gene picked a leaf off his trousers. “If you don’t want to marry him, he should move on. The man thinks he’s in love but if it isn’t a two-way street, he’s wasting his efforts. He doesn’t need your money, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “Politicians always need money,” Joseph said.

  “Chet Dever isn’t a politician, he’s a statesman.” The words might be more suitable for a stump speech than for a discussion, but Gene imbued them with earnestness. “People recognize that he’s going places. He’s got supporters around town, including the Boldings. And he’s well fixed in his own right. He’s loaned his campaign a bundle.”

  “He wasn’t born wealthy. According to the newspapers, his father owns a bookstore in Los Angeles,” Joseph countered.

  “Three bookstores,” Erin said. Chet had taken her to dinner with his parents once and she’d heard all about their vast selection of science fiction and mystery novels. They’d spent the rest of the meal bragging about their son.

  “As for where he got the money, he’s a financial wizard.” Gene certainly didn’t blush at hyperbole, Erin noted. “He graduated from UCLA at twenty and earned an MBA by the age of twenty-two. When I met him, he was the most outstanding broker in the history of H&B Financial. Frankly, I thought he was taking a step down when he went to work for Andrew Marshall, but the man recognized his gifts and was smart enough to promote him to CEO.”

  “I’ll accept that he’s well off, but don’t political campaigns cost millions?” Joseph pressed.

  “They can,” Gene agreed. “Even a small congressional race like this one isn’t cheap. But he’s made some incredible investments over the years.”

  “Do you know that for a fact or are you taking his word?” Joseph asked.

  “What do you think he did, rob a bank?” came the retort. “Of course I take his word.”

  Erin’s head started hurting again. She was tired of talking about money and Chet and weddings and elections. The fact that she’d hardly eaten all day wasn’t helping, either. “Fine. He can raise his funds any way he wants to, as long as I’m out of the picture.”

  “More or less out,” Gene noted. “You might need to repeat the story about the postponement if any reporters show up. But hopefully they won’t bother you.”

  “Excuse me for mentioning this.” Joseph’s apology was clearly aimed at Erin, not their visitor. “However, since Miss Marshall is being so cooperative, I think she might have a few requests of her own.”

  “I figured you’d want to bargain.” Gene folded his arms. “Go ahead.”

  What should she ask for, other than to be left alone? Erin wondered. Then it hit her. “My mom! Chet can arrange for me to see her when Lance isn’t around.”

  “I’m sure he’ll do his best,” Gene said. “In fact, he figured you’d be concerned about Mrs. Bolding. He told me he’s run interference since her accident, and he’ll keep doing it if you want. Whether or not you agree to his request.”

  Erin was relieved “Please thank him for me.”

  “Will do.”

  “I’ll be in touch with him later.” She couldn’t handle any further negotiations with her head aching.

  “I have another request,” Joseph said.

  Gene eyed him dubiously. “Yes?”

  “Don’t worry. All I want is your opinion.”

  “I’ve got plenty of those.”

  “Regardless of what your father thinks, I believe Erin and her mother are in danger,” he said. “Do you know anyone who might want to harm them?”

  “No. If I did, I’d say so,” Gene answered promptly. “I can assure you, if you have any suspicions about Chet, forget them. He would never hurt Erin. Even if he fudged about the engagement, his heart’s in the right place.”

  Joseph didn’t look entirely satisfied, but he nodded.

  “I think we’ve got a deal,” Erin said.

  “I want you to understand something,” Gene added. “I’m glad this is a win-win situation. But if push came to shove, I’d do anything for Chet. His career is my career now. Being part of his te
am is the best thing that ever happened to me, and I plan to ride it all the way to Washington. Maybe even to the White House.”

  “At least you don’t think small,” Joseph said.

  “That’s right.” Tina’s brother rubbed his chin reflexively. “I may not be a popular guy like you, a man’s man like my father wished.” He didn’t seem to notice Joseph’s mystified expression. “I like wheeling and dealing, and that makes me good at politics. I’m riding the big one and I’m not getting off.”

  “Good luck,” Erin said.

  Gene tilted his head in acknowledgment. “It goes without saying that this conversation will remain confidential.”

  “Agreed,” Joseph said. “By the way, if you need to drop by again, come up the driveway. Sneaking around is likely to get you shot.”

  Their visitor shrugged. “Yeah, I went a little overboard there. But it pays to be careful.”

  “Can you reach your car okay? It’s full dark.”

  “I’ve got a flashlight.” Gene was too proud to ask for a lift, Erin thought, and Joseph made no further move to volunteer. “I’ll be in touch.” He shook hands with them both.

  After he left, Joseph said, “I hate to think what that tuxedo is going to look like when he’s done sliding down the hill. I hope the rental shop won’t have a fit.”

  “I’m sure he owns it,” Erin said. “Probably several.”

  They went into the kitchen, where Joseph finished cook ing dinner and baked cookies from refrigerated dough. The odors percolated through Erin’s system, wiping away all thought of anything but food.

  They ate at the round table in the main room, with boldly colored dinnerware and cloth napkins. The food tasted fantastic, and Erin’s headache lifted. She felt comfortable here in Joseph’s beautiful house.

  Everything from the furnishings to the festive plates indicated he’d nested. If so, it surprised her that he’d chosen a place with a single bedroom.

  Didn’t he plan to marry and have kids? He had to be twenty-eight by now. She wondered why he’d never met the right woman. And refused to allow herself to accept the answer that tantalized her.

  Joseph Lowery hadn’t been carrying the torch for Erin all these years. He’d never even tried to visit until police business required it. The gulf that had opened between them eleven years ago had only widened over the years.

  Being thrown together like this was proving an unexpected joy, but she knew better than to read anything into his protectiveness. That was just the way he was—a man’s man, as Gene had put it. But he wasn’t her man. Not anymore.

  “I can understand why you’re so popular,” she said aloud. “I’m glad Gene recognizes it.”

  Joseph set down a cookie he’d picked up. “He’s dreaming.”

  “People always liked you.”

  “Not always.”

  “The kids at school were uncomfortable. They didn’t know what to say to you,” she told him. “And you walked around mad at the world. But you aren’t an outsider anymore. People admire your mother and I’m sure they respect you.”

  He picked up the cookie again. “I’ve learned not to rely on other people’s good opinions. Too many folks sway with whatever breeze comes along. I suppose I should be grateful I’m cured of that.” He finished the cookie and changed the subject. “Did you know Chet had that much money?”

  “No,” she admitted. “We never discussed finances.”

  “You didn’t have a prenuptial agreement?”

  “They’re fine for older people or for couples who believe in divorce, but when I get married, I plan to stay married,” she said. “I don’t want to hold anything back.”

  “Let’s just hope you don’t get taken advantage of.” Joseph rose to clear the dishes. When Erin tried to help, he waved her away. “You’re supposed to take it easy.”

  Despite the long day, a nap and the meal had revived her. “I feel kind of restless. Cooped up, I guess.” The drawn curtains weighed on her spirits. They reminded her too much of her mother’s place.

  “I’ve got an idea. Hold on.” After stacking the dishes in the sink, Joseph retrieved two comforters from the linen closet. “Stay there.”

  He extinguished the interior and exterior lights and disappeared out the back door. The scrape of furniture and the flapping of cloth hinted at his activities.

  He peered inside. “You can come out now.”

  “Is this some kind of magic ritual?”

  “It’s called making the world disappear. And making us disappear with it.”

  On the rear deck, Erin found that he’d pushed aside the patio furniture and spread a comforter on the boards. He sat down and gathered the second one around him. “Scoot under here.”

  She joined him, delighted. Leaning against the house, the two of them made a tent with the covers, leaving only their faces exposed. The bite of October chill against Erin’s cheeks intensified her sense of coziness.

  From this point, only the deck railing and the tops of pine trees broke the expanse of star-flung sky. “This is great,” she said. “And private.”

  “Remember the night we built a campfire and sat around it telling ghost stories?”

  “You made me jump.”

  “Which story was that?”

  “Something about long thin fingers and thick rubbery lips. Don’t tell it again!”

  He laughed. “I won’t. I promise.”

  When Erin admitted they’d spent the evening alone in the woods, her mother had refused to believe all they’d done was tell stories and had grounded her for a week. After that, she’d reluctantly learned to fib to her mother. It was one of the few things she regretted about that period of her life.

  “Remember the time…” Joseph started, but didn’t finish.

  “Which time?” she asked.

  “All of them.”

  “Yes.” They’d had dozens of adventures, enjoying the simplest pleasures as long as they were together.

  They’d met when she was a freshman at Sundown Valley High and he a junior. They’d spotted each other early in the year and kept stealing glimpses at lunch and after school, but both had been too shy to walk up and introduce themselves.

  To her, Joseph had been the handsome captain of the wrestling team, out of reach for someone as inexperienced with guys as she was. Of course, she knew his father worked for hers, but in the self-contained universe of high school, their relative statuses had been reversed.

  They’d met for real one day when she forgot her umbrella. After school, Joseph spotted her dashing into the rain, caught up and walked her to the bus.

  They’d ridden home side by side on a damp seat. At first, they’d only discussed their classes, but in the days that followed, they’d talked so intently that once Joseph—who descended sooner—missed his stop and had to hike back. He hadn’t seemed to mind.

  Many other guys of sixteen had their own cars. She’d been deeply grateful that Joseph didn’t, because it gave them a chance to get to know each other on the bus.

  Soon they were hanging out at lunch, too. By spring, the wrestling season ended and he had weekends free to take her to the movies and the occasional dinner. He’d been playful, tender and so gorgeous that she couldn’t believe he didn’t pressure her for sex.

  There’d been one night during her sophomore year, making out in the back seat of his parents’ car, when she didn’t think she could stop herself. She hadn’t had to. Joseph had reined himself in and driven her home.

  “You might want this now but you’re not ready,” he’d said. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

  They hadn’t, though. Halfway through his senior year, his father was arrested. Other kids, uneasy with the situation, veered away from him. It hadn’t helped that everyone knew Lewis Lowery worked for Andrew Marshall.

  Joseph had said he didn’t want to come to Erin’s house anymore to pick her up. He’d become hypersensitive to slights, even unintentional ones. After a fistfight, he’d been suspended from the wrestli
ng team, along with his opponent. Brooding and angry at the world, Joseph had become irritable and distant, even with her.

  “That is not a happy, starry-night expression.” His voice broke into her reverie. “I think you’re remembering too much.”

  “Way too much,” she agreed. “It’s funny, considering that I’ve forgotten the one day I desperately want to evoke.”

  “It might come back,” he said.

  “At least I haven’t forgotten the happy times.”

  The breeze picked up and he drew the comforter tighter around them. Erin moved closer. She loved the ragged sound of Joseph’s breathing and the springiness of his hair when she touched it.

  He must have felt the same way, because his face slanted toward hers and his arm came around her. After a moment of hesitation, their mouths met for a long, sweet kiss.

  Erin’s head began spinning again, but this time she didn’t mind at all.

  Chapter Seven

  Longing stirred inside Joseph, mingling with tenderness. The joyous way Erin’s lips met his revealed her own excitement.

  Beneath the blanket, they touched each other lightly and swiftly, as if in a few minutes they could banish years of separation. The comforter bunched around them, admitting exhilarating blasts of cold air against his heated skin.

  Erin’s fingers unworked the buttons on Joseph’s shirt as he slid up her sweater and bra. When he bent and licked each pearly tip, she gave a cry of delight.

  Joseph ached to mold her to him and remove the last barrier between them. He knew exactly what came next; he hadn’t spent the past ten years in a monastery. But he couldn’t and wouldn’t hurry this. Erin deserved better.

  Yet she urged him, trailing kisses down his throat. When he shifted position, she stretched alongside him and played her breasts against his bare chest. The intimacy threatened to shred his self-control.

  She wanted him to take her. He knew it just as he’d known it in high school. This time, he didn’t want to restrain himself. They weren’t kids anymore. They both knew what they were doing.

  Disregarding caution, he unsnapped Erin’s jeans and lowered them along her hips. When she wiggled, he gripped her derriere and felt it tighten as her hot core brushed his.