Don’t Call Me Sweetheart (21 page)

“You’ll give her a divorce if that’s what she wants. I won’t
stand by and watch you put her through any more hell.”

“Believe me, she’ll think she’s died and gone heaven by the
time I get done with her, friend. Don’t be mad, Stephan. I know you love her
but the problem is that so do I and since I’m already her husband, sort of, I
think that means I have dibs on her.”

“You love her?” Stephan repeated and was actually smiling. Christian
found himself grinning foolishly back as he confirmed the question.

“If loving her means I feel like I’ve had the crap kicked
out me just because she thinks she needs a divorce, then, yes, I guess I love
her.”

“Well, if I can’t have her I guess I’d want her to end up
with the jerk she lost her own heart to. That is if you can convince her to
have you. I’m not sure that’s possible anymore.”

“It’s possible,” Christian answered, already planning
exactly how he’d convince her to change her mind.

“You have to find her first, you know,” Stephan said,
standing and stretching his legs.

“I know where she is. I’ll be leaving for New York in the
morning.”

“And I’ll be going with you.” At Christian’s surprised look
Stephan explained, “I’m not giving you the chance to mess up again.”

* * * * *

“Tess! Oh, lady, I’ve missed you so much!”

Whitney grabbed her friend around the neck and hugged the
stuffing right out of her, unmindful of the stares she received from the office
help who had stopped to watch.

“Uhh, Tessy can’t breathe, Whitney,” Tess choked out,
grinning over Whitney’s shoulder and waving her employees back to work.

“What? Oh, I’m sorry!” Whitney released the tiny brunette
and stepped back. It felt
so
good to be back in New York and away from
Christian. Christian. Had a moment passed since she had left that she hadn’t
thought about him?

It had been the hardest thing she had ever done to leave him
but she couldn’t have stayed. She would have gone mad knowing that each day one
more tiny bit of her love would be destroyed by the hatred she had armed him
with. She blamed herself. She could have told him who she was but she hadn’t. She’d
been too afraid. She could have tried to contact him herself after she
purchased the inn, seen for herself why he had stayed away but she hadn’t. She
could have done a million things differently but had chosen not to. Instead,
she had let the situation get out of control and now what did she have to show
for it? A broken heart, that was what.

“My gosh, let me look at you, girl. You’ve certainly
changed, haven’t you?” Tess circled Whitney, taking in the changed hairstyle
and fashionable clothes. “I’ll have to watch you or you’ll be stealing my men
now.”

“I really don’t think that will be a problem, Tess,” Whitney
answered, her smile fading.

“Are you ready to tell me what’s wrong, Whitney?” Tess
asked.

It had to be bad, or Whitney wouldn’t have stayed away for
almost a full year without calling and only sending an occasional letter filled
with nonsense about how much fun she was having jet-setting around the world. Sure.
All by herself. And each letter had been postmarked from Washington. Tess
couldn’t wait to hear the real story.

Tears welled up in Whitney’s large green eyes and threatened
to spill forth at any moment. Tess quickly ushered her into her office and
closed the door behind them. Wrapping an arm affectionately around Whitney’s
shoulders she led her to the nearest chair and made her sit down. There was a
small bar along the wall and Tess stepped to it and half filled a wineglass
with Jack Daniel’s. She decided Whitney looked like she needed something
stronger than white wine. Handing her friend the glass Tess perched herself on
the edge of her desk and waited.

Whitney gratefully accepted the drink and raised it to her
lips, swallowing a large mouthful, which really set her eyes to watering.

“What was that stuff?” she finally managed to sputter.

“Whiskey. You looked like you could use it.” Tess grinned. “Now,
spill it. I want to know what’s going on with you. You’ve had me very worried,
you know.”

“I’m sorry, Tess. I didn’t mean to, I just haven’t been
myself lately. Well, actually that’s not true. I’ve been more myself than I
ever have and that’s what’s caused the problem.”

Tess raised a questioning eyebrow in her direction and
Whitney sighed. “It’s really very simple.”

“Of course it is, sweet.”

“Don’t call me that!” Whitney cried, jumping to her feet and
spilling the contents of the glass onto the floor.

“Ooookay,” Tess said quietly, “but I think you need to start
at the beginning and tell me why.”

“I’d rather start at the end, because I consider it part of
my past and I just want to get on with my life,” Whitney answered her, walking
over to stare out of the skyline of the most exciting city in the world. It
couldn’t compare with the mountains of the Cascades in her opinion.

“I’m married. I’ll be divorced soon. End of story.”

“What!” The usually collected Tess was left flabbergasted. “Who
are you married to?”

“Christian.”

“Christian Dade? Our Christian? Tell me you’re making this
up, Whitney.”

“I’m not making it up,” Whitney said quietly as her
shoulders started to tremble. Tess jumped to her feet and wrapped Whitney in
her arms before the flood of tears broke free. How long Whitney stood there
crying neither was sure but some time later Whitney raised her tear-streaked
face to the one belonging to the only person she could count on in the world
not to change the way she felt about her. Tess read the pain in the sorrowful
eyes and wished Christian was around so that she could tear into him herself
for what he had done.

“Baby, what did he do?”

“It’s a long story, Tess and I just want to forget it ever
happened. Let’s just say I’ve learned a lot about myself and men, enough to
know that I was right to spend my life writing about them and keeping them out
of everything else. I never want to feel this way again.”

“You fell in love with him, didn’t you?” Tess gently probed
as she rubbed comforting little circles across Whitney’s back.

Crossing over to the chair she had vacated earlier, Whitney
slumped into it and reached forward to retrieve the glass that had fallen to
the floor. She held it out in Tess’ direction and said, “Wine this time, all
right?”

As Tess took the glass Whitney covered her swollen eyes with
the palms of her hands and leaned her head back. “I fell in love with him. I
was a stupid fool to do it but that’s what happened. Somehow when I left New
York to get away from him, I managed to end up at his inn in Washington, of all
places and fell in love with it too.”

Tess was listening intently, for once not interrupting.

“It was for sale, or so I was told by the lawyer
representing the owner, so I decided to buy it. Tess, it’s gorgeous, you should
see it. Anyway,” Whitney continued, “I almost didn’t go through with it because
I found out the seller was Christian. But I couldn’t stand to leave the place,
it had come to mean so much to me. It’s hard to explain but there I felt free
to be myself, the real Whitney Lane. Not the one who pretended to be Lane
McLaughlin’s secretary. Or the poor little rich girl. I could really be me. I
even started seeing Christian’s lawyer, Stephan Thayer. He was everything you
would want in a man, everything. But I couldn’t get Christian out of my mind.”

“He had the same problem,” Tess interjected, catching
Whitney off guard.

“What are you talking about?”

“He spent months looking for you, trying to track you down
so that he could apologize for whatever it was he said the night you left. He
was pretty torn up about it.”

“He was?” Whitney couldn’t believe Christian was capable of
remorse, let alone obsess over it.

“Yes, he was,” Tess confirmed, “but what happened next.”

“Christian came home. He showed up one evening and thought
he could just move right back into my suite of rooms as if he still owned the
place.”

“Sounds just like him,” Tess agreed, settling herself into
her comfortable chair behind the desk.

“He-he wouldn’t even leave to sleep elsewhere. He made
himself at home in my bed. My bed, Tess!”

Tess was grinning again at the mental picture. “And you did?”

“I told him not to keep me awake snoring.”

“Oh, my. You have changed, haven’t you?”

“Pretty much,” Whitney agreed. “But the next day I found out
the sale of the property was no good and that I would need to ask Christian to
sign the documents over again. By then it was obvious that he would never agree
to that, the way he was stomping around telling me I had no right to his home,
blah, blah, blah.”

Tess laughed out loud at Whitney’s impression of Christian
at his pompous best. She was quite good.

“So when he suggested that we get married and share the
property I saw my chance to retain part ownership. But one of the stipulations
was that it was to be a marriage in name only.” Whitney chose to leave out the
blackmail portion of the agreement, not seeing any purpose to relating the
humiliating details to anyone.

“Let me guess. He didn’t keep his part of the bargain.”

“He definitely didn’t keep his part of the bargain. After a
day or two of marriage to him I knew it had been a mistake and was going to get
it annulled as soon as possible but a huge snowstorm stranded us there together
for a few days. An annulment was out of the question by the time the roads were
cleared,” Whitney explained shyly, looking away. It was agony to remember what
had happened in the gazebo and afterward.

“Somehow I’m not surprised.”

“Oh, Tess. It’s not funny. He hates me. Do you hear me? Hates
me. He found out that I write as Lane McLaughlin. Do you have any idea how he
feels about her?”

“Trust me, after listening to it for months on end, I know,”
Tess answered, dreading hearing what happened next.

“I just couldn’t stay after he discovered that secret,”
Whitney finished lamely, knowing that Tess’ keen senses were picking up on the
fact that she was leaving out some of the more vital reasons for her departure
but was wisely leaving the subject well enough alone for the time being.

“Whitney,” Tess began, “how can you be sure Christian hates
you? He did marry you after all.”

“To get his precious inn back. Believe me, there’s no
question about how he feels about me.”

“So what happens next?”

“I asked Stephan to draw up divorce papers and send them to
me as soon as Christian signs them. I agreed to let him have his home back, in
fact I even let him keep what I had paid for it and told him to consider it an
investment that didn’t pan out. He shouldn’t have any reason not to agree and
we can have this thing settled as soon as possible.”

“Sometimes when you think things are going to be wrapped up
all neat and tidy is when they end up the stickiest to unravel,” Tess observed.

“Not this time,” Whitney vowed under her breath. Aloud she
said, “I’m tired of talking about old news, let’s get out of here and go have
lunch someplace fun.”

Tess realized that Whitney had closed the door on any
further conversation for the moment. Within minutes they had descended to the
first floor of the enormous office building and walked around the corner to a
favorite bistro that was just beginning to fill with the usual lunch crowd.

It was good to be back, Whitney thought.

It would be good to go back. To Washington.

“Don’t even go there,” she told herself firmly as she slid
into a booth across from Tess and picked up the menu.

“Do I look okay, Gabbycat?” Whitney asked her faithful
companion as she twirled before her mirror, enjoying the fruits of her the day’s
shopping spree. Tess had told her that she was hosting a formal dinner party
that evening for a number of the members of the literary world and would be absolutely
crushed if Whitney did not come.

Whitney had agreed but with the understanding that she would
be introduced as both Whitney Lane andLane McLaughlin. She was heartily
tired of trying to pretend to be someone she wasn’t. There would never be
another day when she had to regret misrepresenting who she really was. She had
learned a very painful lesson.

The world would no longer be able to speculate as to her
identity. She realized that she would be giving up her anonymity but it was
better than the alternative. After a lifetime of hiding, first because of her
wealth and then her fame, she was ready to quit. Whatever happened would
happen. There was no use trying to change the fate that had been handed her. Look
what had happened already.

Staring at her reflection Whitney could scarcely believe
that the beautiful woman staring back was really her. The strapless cream satin
gown clung to her breasts and fell in graceful folds to the floor, leaving an
enticing amount of cleavage showing. A single strand of perfect pearls
encircled the slim column of her neck and she had pulled the wealth of
burnished ringlets away from her face and secured the mass at the crown of her
head with a gold clasp. For once, she liked the way she looked. Christian would
have too.

She chided herself for letting thoughts of him intrude on
such a special evening. She was going to confront herself tonight. She didn’t
need to muddy the waters with bittersweet memories.

Whitney drew a matching floor-length satin wrap from its
hanger and slipped it on over her gown. She was ready for whatever the evening
had to offer. By telling the world she was the face behind the name Lane
McLaughlin she could lay to rest the last of her demons and perhaps, with a bit
of good luck this time, she could get on with her life. It would probably be
some time before she would be able to once again work on her writing. She knew
her heart just wouldn’t be in it until she had a chance to heal. But it would
eventually happen. One thing would be for certain. Christian Dade would never
again grace the cover of one of her novels.

A knock on her door told her that the driver had arrived. Since
she was no longer concealing her identities, either one of them, she had
decided to take full advantage of all the amenities her station afforded her to
do. Tonight, she would arrive in style. Tonight, she would pretend only that
her life was as glamorous and happy as the people watching her were bound to
assume.

As she arrived at Tess’ townhouse, she was amazed at how
many people were there. Anyone who was anyone had been invited it seemed. Tess
had neglected to tell her she could expect such a crowd. The rooms were crammed
with beautifully garbed men and women, busy mixing conversation and cocktails. Whitney
wound her way up the stairs fanning out around the foyer of the home and found
Tess along the balcony above the crowd, engrossed in conversation with a
handsome young man she didn’t recognize.

“Tess,” Whitney interrupted, “you didn’t say that you had
invited half of New York to this little ‘dinner party’.”

“I didn’t? Well, it was just an oversight that I’ll be happy
to correct. Whitney, dear, I’ve invited half of New York to dinner tonight and
you simply must join us.”

Tess had obviously had enough cocktails already. “I’m not
going to let you make my announcement to all these people,” Whitney whispered,
grasping her friend’s arm and ignoring the irritated expression on the face of
the man she had intruded upon.

“Too late. Attention everyone!” All heads swung to regard
Tess where she stood above them and a quiet hush pervaded the room. “As you all
know, for some time now I have represented Miss Lane McLaughlin as her
publicist and have done a marvelous job maintaining the animosity, anonymity…the
secrecy she insisted upon regarding her identity. Well, tonight I have the
pleasure of introducing you to the talent behind the name, my very dearest
friend, Miss Whitney Lane!”

Whitney stared, beyond mortification, at Tess. She hadn’t
expected this. What was she supposed to say now?

She didn’t need to worry because in the next instant a
familiar voice could be heard coming up the stairs and the crowd turned to follow
what the striking gentleman was saying.

“You’ve got it all wrong, Tess. That isn’t Whitney Lane. Recently
she became Mrs. Christian Dade.”

The crowd gasped in unison. The famous romance author was
married to her equally famous cover model?

Whitney watched as Christian approached from below. He was
dressed in a black tuxedo, a splash of red at his waistband and neck. He was
nothing if not perfect. Her heart actually skipped a beat as her eyes met his
across the distance and she saw that he was looking at her with anything but
the hatred she had expected. His black hair was slicked back just as it had
been that day on the set at Jag’s and the sight of his broad shoulders and trim
hips moving under the genteel confines of his formal attire set her blood on fire.

What did he want? Hadn’t she already given him everything
she had to give?

Lord, he was right in front of her, she could actually feel
the heat of his body and every eye in the house was trained on them. Whitney
wanted to die.

“Whitney, my sweetheart.” The sound of his deep voice was
amazingly sensual and as always had the desired effect.

“Why are you here, Christian?” Whitney interrupted him in a
scathing whisper, her eyes darting nervously to the assemblage below.

“I’ve brought you a gift, wife.” Christian said as he
reached one hand into the breast pocket of his coat and drew out an envelope. Whitney
eyed him suspiciously.

Opening the envelope Christian unfolded the document that
was inside. He turned it so Whitney could see that it was their marriage
license. That was it. He intended to make her humiliation complete by granting
her divorce in public. She had no idea that even he could be so cruel, so
heartless.

“Whitney, the way our marriage took place was a monumental
mistake making nearly every aspect a sham of the worst sort. We both made
mistakes and I’m sure we both have regrets.”

That much was true.

“Christian. Do we have to do this here?” Whitney beseeched
him in a strained whisper.

In the next instant Christian tore their license into
hundreds of small pieces of paper and threw them over the balcony to fall in a
shower of confetti onto the people gathered under them watching the
performance, mesmerized by each word and action.

“We could say we wanted to get rid of the marriage, let it
be torn to shreds as easily as that paper. But I don’t think we will.”

“We won’t?” Whitney paled and whispered in a small voice
only Christian could hear.

“No, we won’t,” Christian answered, reaching out and drawing
her into the protective circle of his arms, his gleaming black eyes fusing with
her own. “We can’t. A judge told us we were married and a judge might tell us
that we’re not but nothing will change the fact that I willalways feel
married to you. Whitney, I willalways love you.”

Christian’s lips swooped down and claimed Whitney’s in a
demanding kiss meant to sear her soul. The crowd roared their approval. Whitney
couldn’t comprehend any of it other than the fact that Christian had said he
loved her. He loved her!

Her arms wound themselves tightly around his neck, drawing
him ever closer, telling him that she would never let him go. Whatever had come
between them in the past would be locked away there forever. They had each
other and the world was an open book. Book! What about books? He hated hers, he
had made that painfully clear. How could they have a future together when he
despised the very essence of her being?

Christian felt her stiffen in his arms and knew
instinctively she had discovered more obstacles for him to shatter before their
happiness would be complete. Nothing, absolutely nothing was going to stand
between him and the wife he had finally decided he couldn’t live without. It
had taken him thirty-odd years to come to that realization and he wasn’t going
to let anything alter it now.

“What, love?” he asked Whitney, raising his head the barest
fraction of an inch, his words whispered against her flushed lips. “Ask your
questions now, because I swear after tonight you’ll never be given another
chance to wonder if this was the right decision.”

With his mouth trailing tantalizing caresses around the
corners of her own Whitney had trouble concentrating on what she was trying to
say. Both had forgotten that they were providing uniquely provocative
entertainment to Tess’ guests.

“Which of us do you want to stay married to, Christian? Whitney
Lane or Lane McLaughlin?”

“I can take the good with the bad,” he crooned into her ear
following his words with the tip of his tongue not caring that they were
putting on quite a show. He was fighting to save his marriage and his weapon of
choice was a powerful one, albeit best deployed in private.

“The good and the bad!” Whitney screeched under her breath,
trying not to show him, or any of the hundred or so spectators, how much his
touch was affecting her.

“Ummm. I’m really more fond of Whitney when she’s being verrry
bad but I’ve given some thought to what you said about Lane and I suppose that
if I stopped blaming her for my problems I could allow that she has some good
qualities herself. Doesn’t mean I like her yet, I think I may need to spend
more time with her, find out just how much she does know about this romance
stuff and what goes on behind closed doors.” The warm breath of air Christian
blew into her ear turned Whitney into a quivering mass of white-hot flames.

If he hadn’t shut the door on her profession there might be
room to hope that their relationship wasn’t doomed. She was a writer wasn’t
she? Trained to find happy endings? Well, if she couldn’t recognize that she
had just been handed one herself she should get out of the business and save
him the trouble of trying to compromise his feelings.

“You have to admit that having the cover model hanging
around the house just waiting to be summoned for a little role-playing in order
to make sure you have the love scenes done right isn’t a bad idea.”

I’d vote for that plan.

“Well,” Christian prompted her, his hands slipping into the
thick mass of her hair and tilting her face to his own. Crystal clear green
eyes sparkled back at him and he read in their depths that he had won. “Say it,
Whitney. Say you’ll be mine forever.”

Whitney laid her hands on either side of his handsome face,
gently smoothing away the little worry lines around his eyes as he waited for
her to say the words he desperately needed to hear. She loved this face, the
rugged features that could make her heart turn over within her breast with just
a glance, the sensual lips that held the promise of endless nights of pleasure,
but most of all the dark, expressive eyes that at that moment were blazing with
a love so pure that she had never thought to find such a precious treasure for
herself. More than anything she wanted to share the rest of her life with this
man.

“Yes, Christian.” Whitney purred, leaning into him drawing
his face downward so that she could intersperse each word with feathery kisses
of her own across his cheeks, his brow, his closed eyes. “I’m yours now,
forever, for always. I love you.”

As Christian swept her into his arms and shouldered his way
down the steps and through the crowd Whitney was dimly aware of people shouting
their approval and well-wishes at them. It was hard to notice anything other
than the strong arms of her husband—her husband!—about her as she was placed
into a waiting limousine and they sped away. She discovered that night that
consummating a marriage, a real marriage, was the sweetest agony one could
endure and endure and endure.