Married by Monday (Weekday Brides) (9 page)

Keeping her sunglasses on, Eliza found the movie theater inside the mall and noted the movie times. The latest young adult vampire movie was about to let out. “Perfect,” she whispered to herself.

At the ticket booth, she smiled at the twenty-something attendant and bought a seat for the latest chick-flick. “One for Ten Million Dollar Bride please.”

Ten bucks later, Eliza was slipping into the crowd. She diverted to the ladies room but not before noting Joe buying a ticket.

Inside a stall, she shimmied out of her loose knit pants and black shirt and tucked them into her oversize purse. Her barely-there shorts fit the teenage style and the shoestring top should have been illegal to wear. She pulled her hair through a trendy black hat with a sparkly cross embellished over the brim. As she was applying gloss to her lips, a slew of giggling teenage girls crowded into the bathroom.

“
Oh, my God that was the best one yet,” one of the girls squealed as the others oohed and awed over the latest teen heartthrob.

One of the girls noticed Eliza standing there and let a toothy grin brighten her face. After a few seconds of chatty teenage noise, Eliza glanced at the obvious popular girl of the group and said, “Love that shirt. Where did you get it?”

The tiny blonde lifted her chin and smiled. “Forever Teen,” she said. “Cute hat.”

Using the desire to impress an older hip girl to her advantage, Eliza complimented the girl’s taste and in a weird way managed to gain her trust. The girls moved like a small mob from the bathroom while others shoved in. Eliza slid her glasses on and melted into their group, chatting as she went about a movie she’d not seen. Thank God the trailers of the film had dominated the movie ads for weeks.

In the small gaggle of teens, Eliza snuck out of the movie theater, right past a clueless Joe. Dean stood outside the door of the theater, but didn’t see her slip by.

“
Do you go to Valley High,” one of the girls asked her.

Do I look that young?

“
UCLA, actually,” Eliza lied.

“
Cool.”

A city bus was pulling up to the curb, and Eliza made her break. “Nice talking to ya,” she said, waving at the girls.

Eliza overpaid the bus fair and found a seat by the back door. Acting the part of clueless kid, she tucked ear buds in her ears and pretended to listen to music. A couple of rough twenty-year-old kids watched her from across the aisle, trying to get her attention with a smile.

Five stops from the movie theater, Eliza stepped off the bus just as the door was closing. Two blocks on foot, she found a bathroom at a fast food restaurant. She changed back into age appropriate clothes. One taxi ride later and she was sipping a cocktail at an outside lounge in Santa Monica.

No Joe.

No Dean.

No Jim.

After the third time her cell phone rang, she finally turned it off.

A smile crept onto her lips.
You still have it, Lisa.
She’d manage to escape those following her and fade into the world undetected.

She managed to hide.

Again.

****

Carter debated on using Samantha’s key and letting himself into Eliza’s home to wait for her return. But then what? She’d kick his ass out, and he’d be no closer to answers than he was when she stormed out of his hotel room.

Blake knew nothing. And Samantha knew even less. How was it that two women as close as they were could keep deep secrets from the other for so long? Carter thought men held the award for silence.

Apparently, he needed to reevaluate his assumptions.

Blake pulled a couple of favors and discovered that before Eliza was nineteen years old she didn’t exist. There were no school records, no teenage job, and no driver’s license at sixteen. Carter would have dug deeper but couldn’t shake the feeling that he was violating her privacy.

After the third time he called her cell phone, he left a simple message. “Call me.”

She had to know they were all worried. Detectives don’t knock on your door every day and ask to talk to you without explanation.

Or did they?

Carter ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

Every time he watched the media coverage of his press conference, he was struck with how amazing Eliza appeared before the cameras. She couldn’t have been more perfect from the way she dressed to the way she teased the reporters. If he could convince her to be his wife, if only for a little while, his political future would be that much more secure. At least that’s what he told himself. He knew that marrying her might give them both a reason to give into the simmering heat between them. The hammering inside his chest wasn’t due to his political career.

Her flat out refusal of his proposal shot his plans to hell. He should have expected it. Her utter revulsion to the idea rocked his world and not in a good way. He knew now he’d blown his proposal. But that wasn’t going to stop him from making Eliza his wife. He just needed to change his strategy.

His thoughts swam around about how to do that when his cell phone rang.

“
Yeah?”

“
She’s home.” It was Joe who had taken watch over Eliza’s house awaiting her arrival.

“
What about the two cops? They still hanging around?” According to Joe’s earlier conversation the detectives who escorted Eliza from the hotel were just as dumbfounded when she disappeared in a movie theater as Joe was. “She vanished like a pro, boss,” Joe had told him. “She’s done it before.”

“
They took off as soon as she showed up.”

Carter wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“
Okay. I’m on my way. Go ahead and take off once I get there. Get some sleep. I think we’re all going to need some.” Carter hung up, grabbed his keys, and left his house. Even if Eliza didn’t tell him what was going on, he wasn’t going to leave until he knew she was safe.

Cross-town traffic was light, and he made it to her Tarzana home in less than twenty minutes. He signaled Joe who waved back and left once Carter parked in her driveway.

A shadow behind the living room window, followed by the curtain moving made him realize that he was stalling. Sitting in her driveway like a stalker wasn’t his style.

He pushed out of the car and marched to her door.

He knocked but she didn’t answer.

“
I know you’re home, Eliza,” he said through the door.

After knocking a second time, he said. “I’m not leaving.”

He heard the click of locks disengaging before she opened the door.

Her hair had been brushed out, her makeup scrubbed clean from her face. Even still, she was beautiful. Although there was a heaviness in her gaze he hadn’t seen before. Worry maybe or perhaps it was doubt.

She stepped away from the door in a silent invitation for him to enter.

At least she gave him that small comfort.

He closed the door and walked into the hall.

She quickly stepped behind him and slid the deadbolt in place. The move caught him as strange, but he didn’t comment.

Walking past him she said, “If I wanted to talk to you I would have called.”

Carter followed her into her kitchen.

“
When would that have been? Tomorrow? The next day?”

Water boiled on her stove inside a kettle, and the steam was starting to hum. Without an invitation to sit, Carter leaned against the wall and watched her mill about the kitchen as she made herself a cup of tea.

“
Maybe.”

Translation,
no.
Damn she was stubborn.

“
Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

She ripped open a tea bag and placed the packet inside a cup. Each movement was slow and deliberate. “I don’t know,” she finally said.

From the confusion set behind her eyes, he believed she was just as torn about revealing her secrets as he was torn up for not knowing them.

“
Are you going to tell me anything? Like did you know those detectives?” He asked both questions deliberately.

Unfortunately, she didn’t fall for his bait. “I’ll tell you what I want, when I want. Yes and no questions aren’t going to work to whittle away answers.”

An entire line of questions, ones he’d practiced en route to her home, now needed to be rewritten in his head. “I hope you know you can trust me.” Not a question. She couldn’t diss him for that.

“
This isn’t about trust.”

He should take some comfort in that.

She brought the tea up to her lips and blew across the hot beverage. She peeked over the brim to look at him.

“
Since we’re talking about trust,” she started. “What the hell was all of that about marriage earlier?”

He folded his arms over his chest. “I suppose you could say I’m following Blake’s lead. Marriage solves a few fundamental problems in my career path.”

She stared at him full on now, not trying to look away. “Your problems. Not mine.”

“
Problems you helped play a role in.” He saw the spark in her eye before she managed her first syllable of defense.

She sat the tea down and placed a hand on the counter. “That’s low, Carter.”

“
And true or you’d be the first to tell me I’m wrong. If I had a choice, I’d be married by Monday to help dispel all the media crap created by yours and Gwen’s night on the Texas town. I thought I could come to you and obtain a little bit of cooperation.”

“
A little bit of cooperation. Marriage is a tad more than a
little bit
of anything.” Her voice rose and her knuckles started to grip the counter.

“
Yet you earn your living arranging marriages or partnerships on trite reasons less important than mine.” How dare she follow a moral high ground. Maybe she’d forgotten how well versed he was on her and Samantha’s business.

“
You forget that our clients have to approve of the relationships we arrange. They have to like the person—”

He laughed, interrupting her. “Do you really want to pretend we aren’t friends to prove your point?”

Her cheeks grew rosy which he had to admit was a much better than the pasty color she’d been sporting when he walked into the house. He felt the fire burning inside her as she shot daggers with her eyes.

“
You’re my best friend’s husband’s friend. If you’re looking for a wife you might peek into your little black book, or whatever it is you use, and draw another name.”

Carter let his arms drop and took two steps closer. The angrier she became, the more his blood churned. His body responded to her outrage, but not in anger. “I don’t want to draw another name.”

“
Well you need to. As far as I see it, you and I hardly get along. We have nothing in common and can’t be in the same room for more than an hour without getting into an argument.”

True. All of what she said was true.

He moved into her personal space, felt the heat of her skin, and sensed the spark of her temper. Her eyes shifted as he approached, but she didn’t slide away. Stubborn woman, she simply glared daring him to prove her wrong. Well, he intended to do just that.

“
You’re ignoring one thing that proves you’re the perfect wife for me.”

She tilted her chin in defiance. “Oh, yeah…what’s that?”

“
This.” He swept her into his arms and captured her lips in the space of one breath. He was banking on her willful nature to accept his kiss and she didn’t disappoint. Her lips were an explosion of taste on his.

She let out a tiny whimper as her eyes fluttered closed. Molding his body to hers, he made sure she felt his growing desire. Her soft curves ignited his body and left his brain mush.

He ran his tongue over her lips and demanded acceptance. He’d waited so long to be where he was at this point, he wasn’t coming up for air even if his head grew dizzy and the lights faded.

Her fingers found his arms and gripped him hard. For a brief moment, he thought she’d push him away. He should have known better. Eliza tilted her head and opened enough for him to devour her. Their tongues dueled, both fighting for control over their growing passion. Her kiss was everything he’d ever dreamed it would be. He could smell the sandalwood musk she used as perfume. Something he’d always identified as uniquely hers. No flowers or overly sweet designer perfumes would do her justice.

Carter slid a hand around her waist and nibbled on the edge of her lips.

Her hand drifted between his suit jacket and kneaded his back before dipping lower over his ass.

Sweet lord he wanted her. He released her lips only to move on to her chin and neck, trailing kisses and learning the spots on her body that made her whimper.

She sighed and tilted her hips into his. She trembled and searched for more contact. Carter slid between her thighs and lifted her with ease onto the cool granite countertop.

Eliza pushed his jacket from his shoulders.

He tossed it to the side in a rush. Even with their clothes on, her body searched for his, begging to be touched, to be fulfilled.