Lori Wilde - There Goes The Bride (20 page)

“You were present for my most embarrassing moment.”

“Ah, yes, the tarp incident. That’s the most humiliating thing that’s ever happened to you?”

“I don’t usually put myself in embarrassing situations.”

“Tell me, what inspired you to dress in a raincoat and bustier to bag your fiancé and drag him off for an afternoon of hot sex?”

“Truthfully, I didn’t really want to do it.”

“No? Then why did you?”

“It was my friends’ idea.”

“I’m going to need a little more to go on. Fair’s fair. I told you about the panty hose.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“More embarrassing than my story?”

“You’re going to make me go through with this, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely. We can’t have the ledger go unbalanced.”

“Okay, here goes.” She inhaled. “I was telling my friends that my fiancé and I had entered a celibacy pack before our wedding. We haven’t had sex in six months and I was feeling—”

“Horny.”

She blushed. “Well, yes.”

“What kind of red-blooded American male agrees to a celibacy pact?” Nick raked his eyes over Delaney. “Especially with a woman like you?”

“It was my fiancé’s idea. Anyway, my friends came up with the scenario to kidnap him from his job for an afternoon of hot sex. To prove to myself I wasn’t a stick in the mud, I decided to go through with it.”

“Are you sure your fiancé isn’t gay?” Nick cocked an eyebrow.

“He’s not gay.”

“Asexual then?”

“Maybe,” she admitted. She wouldn’t look at him.

“Do you love the guy?” Nick had to ask.

“I’ve known him since I was a child.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I love him,” she whispered. “But I’m afraid the love I feel for him is not the right kind of love. That’s what I was trying to find out with the whole raincoat and bustier thing.”

“If you don’t love him that way, then for God’s sake, do the poor schlub a favor and don’t marry him,” Nick said sharply.

“You don’t understand. It’s very complicated. My mother, she’s a stickler for all that social registry stuff. Wants to make sure I marry the right kind of man.”

“Meaning rich and well bred.”

“Yes.”

“What century are you living in?”

“You don’t know what it’s like. Coming from high society.”

“Sounds like a pain in the ass to me.”

She laughed. “It is.”

“So you thought you were bagging your boyfriend and instead you bagged me. You must have felt like you were angling for whitefish and came up with a carp instead.”

“I was so nervous about the whole thing that I threw the tarp over the first guy who came out the door. It never even entered my head that you weren’t Evan.”

He felt as if he’d been kicked squarely in the bread basket. His breath left his body in one long whoosh. “Evan? Your fiancé is Dr. Evan Van Zandt?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “How did you know?”

Nick groaned. Of all the freakin’ luck. His gut fisted and his pulse knocked for no good reason.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Trust me to get myself in this kind of situation,” he muttered under his breath.

“What are you talking about?”

He tapped his knee. “Evan? Your fiancé. He’s my doctor.”

Nick’s revelation rattled Delaney to her core. Evan was his surgeon?

“We better get to work,” she said, ignoring the feelings churning inside her. She couldn’t meet his eyes. She was still trying to deal with the implications of what he’d told her. Nick knew Evan. Evan had treated Nick. “Did you get to the plumbing repairs yet? Are we ready to move on to putting down the kitchen tile?”

“I finished the plumbing,” he said. “Just waiting for you to help me pull up the old linoleum; the new tile is stacked up on the porch, ready to go.”

Delaney worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Being so close to him was unsettling. “Maybe we could skip to the painting today instead. You can do one room, I can do another.”

“Wouldn’t it be more effective if we worked together?” he asked, sizing her up with one long, cool stare. “And I thought you wanted the kitchen finished first, since it requires the most work.”

She cleared her throat. “Um, I’m thinking it’s better if we’re not in the same room.”

“What’s the matter, Rosy? Scared you can’t keep your hands off me?” he taunted her. “Scared Evan will find out we were in a room alone together? Shh, I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” she denied stridently.

“No?” He stepped closer, crowding her space, chasing all the air from her lungs.

“Absolutely not,” she bristled.

“You’re going to deny there’s chemistry going on here.” His gaze nailed her to the spot.

“I will not jeopardize my relationship with a man I’ve known for twenty-five years over a lusty affair.”

“Whoa.” He held up both palms. “You’re moving a little fast for me. Who said anything about an affair? What makes you think I’m the kind of guy who would have an affair with an engaged woman? I’m outraged.”

“You’re teasing me?” She eyed him.

“I’m testing you.”

She didn’t know what to make of that. “I don’t trust you.”

He shrugged. “So quit.”

“What?” Her eyes narrowed. “You want me to quit, don’t you? That’s what this is all about. That’s why you’ve been coming on so strong.”

He didn’t say anything, his silence confirming her suspicions. He didn’t want Lucia to sell the house so he was coming on to her, hoping to make her leave.

“I’m not quitting.” She hardened her jaw.

“Fine by me.”

“I’ve got work to do.” Drawing herself up to her full height, she went over to the corner, picked up a putty knife, and started tackling the aged linoleum.

Nick came up behind her. “Why did you offer to wait to get paid until after the house sells? That doesn’t sound like good business to me.”

She didn’t answer him for the longest moment. She was trying to decide if he even deserved an answer. “Because I needed this job as much as your grandmother needed it done.”

“You?” He made a dismissive noise. “You’re an oil heiress. You’re engaged to a prominent doctor. You’re stunningly beautiful. Why would you need a job?”

“It’s complicated.” Her face was burning red again as she felt the telltale flush creep up her neck. No matter how hard she tried to suppress it, he seemed to have a magical ability to make her blush.

“I’ve got two good ears.”

She ignored him. She’d already talked too much, gave him too much ammunition to use against her. Darn her need to be liked. She wished she didn’t care what he thought about her, but she did. Disgruntled with herself, she grabbed a chunk of linoleum and yanked it up from the subflooring.

“You blush every time I give you a compliment. Why is that?” He came over to lean one shoulder against the wall in front of her.

“You’re in my way.”

“I know that.”

She raised her head and glared at him point-blank. “I realize you’re a cop and interrogating people just comes naturally to you, but I’d appreciate it if you dropped this whole line of questioning and helped me get this old flooring up.”

He grabbed a piece of linoleum from the opposite end of the kitchen and pulled up a long hunk of it. He opened the back door, chucked the brittle strip out onto the back lawn, and then started again. In half an hour, they met in the middle of the room, the floor sticky and raw from the glue of the old linoleum.

They looked at each other, but neither of them spoke. Two people standing in the middle of a vacant room, uncertain what to make of each other.

“I was unattractive as a child,” she said, not knowing why she was telling him this. “The proverbial ugly duckling.”

Nick tilted his head and studied her. “Well, I’d say you’ve blossomed into a hellaciously beautiful swan.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“You want me to haul you over in front of a mirror and prove to you otherwise?”

“What you’re seeing isn’t real, Nick. It’s all packaging.”

“What are you talking about? Don’t you notice the heads swiveling and the tongues drooling when you walk down the street?”

“Nose job.” She touched her nose with fingertips. “Until I was fourteen I resembled the Wicked Witch from
The Wizard of Oz.
”

“No way.”

She put a hand to her waist. “Or you could say I looked like the Pillsbury Doughboy’s blind date. And then there were the teeth.” She raised her upper lip, revealing her teeth that she knew were perfectly straight and dazzlingly white. Five grand worth of veneers could do that for you. “I could have given Bugs Bunny a run for his money, except I stuttered like Porky Pig. Oh”—she snapped her fingers—“I almost forgot the Coke-bottle glasses.”

“I’m sure you’re exaggerating. Women have a tendency to denigrate their looks.”

“It’s true. Just ask my mother. She’ll be the first to tell you I was a total train wreck.” Under her breath she mumbled, “Lord knows she’s told me often enough.”

“I think I get it,” he said.

“Get what?”

“Why you lowballed your bid on my grandmother’s house.”

“Really?”

“Lack of self-confidence,” he said.

“Partially,” Delaney conceded.

“And you lack self-confidence because your mother never believed in you until you had your nose done, lost weight, underwent LASIK surgery, got braces, and stopped stuttering.”

Her eyes widened. “How did you know?”

“Why else would you be so hard on yourself?” His voice was kind, his eyes kinder still. “Come on, Delaney, it’s way past time to stop beating yourself up for your sister’s death. You didn’t kill her. You weren’t responsible. Let go of the blame.”

Dammit, just when he was making it easy for her to resist him, he turned sweet. She couldn’t bear the understanding expression on his face. It was too much. She could handle feelings of lust for him. Lust was just lust, but this feeling—this was dangerous stuff.

“I’ve just remembered something,” she said, feeling bad about lying but knowing she had to get out of here before something really dangerous happened.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got an appointment to give a bid on a house in west Houston at ten. With the traffic, I’ll be lucky to make it. Sorry to bail on you like this, but we made a good start.”

“You’ve been here less than an hour,” he said.

“I know, I’m sorry.” The way he was looking at her was making things worse. “I gotta go.”

“See you tomorrow?”

“Uh-huh.” She forced a smile, grabbed her purse, and ran from the house while she still had the strength of will to tear herself away.

Chapter 11

O
kay, phase one of Operation: House Stage Ouster had been a rousing success. Nick had gotten Delaney to reveal her doubts and fears and insecurities. He knew where her vulnerabilities lay, knew just how to wound her. Problem was, he didn’t want to wound her. In fact, he felt an overwhelming urge to protect her. From her mother, from her fiancé, from the entire world.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Tender feelings were not part of the plan.

Last night, unable to sleep, he’d tiled the entire kitchen by himself in spite of the pain in his knee. This morning, he was tired and achy and ready to abandon his plans to chase her off. Face facts, he wanted her around. And that thought was scary as hell.

“Come on,” he muttered. “You can’t let your feelings for her derail your own needs. She’s marrying someone else. It’s not like you have a chance with her. Hell, you don’t want a chance with her. You’re through with all that romantic mumbo jumbo.”

Oh, yeah?

“Yeah.”

Then prove it, Vinetti. Tactic #2—Undermine Your Enemy. Start it today.

Right. He could do this.

To rev himself up, he thought of his toughest undercover assignments. If he could maneuver criminals and thugs and the underworld, he could certainly handle one high-bred young house stager.

What to do? How best to undermine her without really hurting her feelings?

He plotted. He schemed. He connived and came up with a kind yet devious plan. He would goad her into causing her own demise.

Nick took a trip to the souvenir shops on Seawall Boulevard and after striking out in several stores, finally found what he was looking for. Satisfied with his purchase, he had it gift wrapped. Then he hurried back to Nana’s and found Delaney standing on the back porch, looking sumptuous in a red tank top and a blue-jean skirt, and all the underhanded subterfuge just flew right out of his head.

Delaney had given herself a good talking to after what had happened the previous day, and convinced herself she could indeed work around Nick Vinetti without succumbing to this charms. Donning her mental armor, she arrived at Lucia’s house with a professional smile plastered on her face.