Newlywed Games (32 page)

So what if Jenn didn’t believe her, she knew better. Bruce’s act was just that, an act. And the final curtain was coming all too soon.

B
RUCE WAS BETWEEN PHONE CALLS WHEN A KNOCK CAME ON
his office door.

“Come,” he called out, and looked up in time to see Charmaine saunter in like a cat on the prowl.

“Bruce, I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Bruce pressed his lips together tightly. She was the last person he expected to see today, which had suited him fine. In fact, he could quite happily go the rest of his life without laying eyes on this particular woman again.

He knew she’d been wanting to talk with him. After all, she had left twelve messages while he’d been out. He didn’t see much point in calling her back. He’d said all he had to her. History had proven no good came of talking with her. Whoever said ignore a person and they will go away, never met Charmaine. But leave it to her to take matters into her own hands.

Why couldn’t she just leave him alone? With the masquerade ball less than a week away, he had a number of calls to make. Having a face-to-face with
Charmaine Altman was definitely not something he wanted taking up his time today.

Or, for that matter, any day.

“Charmaine.” He nodded his head at her, reaching out to straighten his papers and close his file. Maybe she’d get the point that he was busy. Then an even better idea came to him: He could make the calls from home, where she couldn’t bother him.

Scooping the file up, he stood. “Sorry I can’t stick around to chat. I’m in a hurry.” In a hurry to get away from her. He did his best to keep the impatience from his voice, but even he could hear that he wasn’t succeeding.

“Hurrying home to your little wifey?” Her tone was ever so sweet. Too sweet. “Oh, but then again, she’s not really your wife.”

Bruce froze, his hands tensing on the file he held. How in the world had she find out about that? He met her smug gaze. “What is that supposed to mean?” He tried to keep his tone level. The last thing he wanted to do was reveal his jumbled emotions.

“Quite simple, dear boy. The county courthouse has no record of your marriage.”

So the cat thinks she has cornered this mouse. Not if I can help it.
“And you assumed we married here?”

“Not at all. I never make assumptions. My man did a thorough computer search of all fifty states last week. You know what he found?”

Yeah, he knew exactly what he found…or didn’t find.

“Nothing.” She stepped up close to him and ran her finger down his tie. “But I can keep your little tryst a
secret.” Her voice dropped to a low, sultry tone.

He held his breath and clenched his jaw. Having this information in Charmaine’s hands was bad. Very bad. She could and would ruin everything, given the chance. He needed time to think…to decide what to do about this new development.

Lifting his chin, he did the only thing he could: bluff. “I hope you get a discount for your man’s incompetence. Maybe you should have him try again?” A new search would at least keep her occupied and off his back for a few days. This mouse was escaping, one way or another.

He walked away, leaving her standing there speechless, such a blessed sound.

Unfortunately, it didn’t last long. “I will get to the bottom of this,” she called from behind him. “I promise you that.”

He turned, putting on the most nonchalant expression he could muster. “There is nothing to get to the bottom of, so don’t waste your time.” With a sigh, he stepped toward her. “Charmaine, please, I have tried to be polite, to be civil to you, but you just have to accept that what we had is over. It has been for a very long time. And I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me—” he gave her a pointed look—“and my
wife
in peace.”

She didn’t flinch. Instead she closed the gap between them, stroking his tie again. “I could make you happy if you would only give me a chance,” she purred.

As calmly as he could, he removed her hand from his tie. “No, Charmaine. Not now, not ever. Now, please, I need to go.”

She sniffled and looked away. “You don’t have to be mean about it.”

“Your false tears aren’t going to work on me.”

Her head came up with a snap; anger burned in her eyes. “You can’t fool me, Bruce. I know you too well. You want everyone to believe you’ve made some miraculous change, but it’s all just an act. I know exactly who you are—” her tone turned sensual—“and what you like.”

“No, Charmaine, you don’t. You don’t know me at all anymore.”

She blinked, staring at him. “Maybe we should test that assertion.” Before he could react, she slid her arms around his neck and pressed herself close against him.

Repulsion swept through Bruce, and he reached up to take hold of her arms, then stopped. He looked down at her for a moment, eyes narrowed. Maybe this was the best way to convince her she was wasting her time. Show her she didn’t affect him, not even a little, no matter how close she got.

He dropped his hands to his sides, arching his brows, letting her see in his expression how tedious her display was. “Charmaine, I’m sorry, but I don’t have time for your games.” He slid his hands into his pants pockets. “Or interest, for that matter.”

Anger flickered in her beautiful eyes at that, and Bruce felt a surge of triumph. Thank heaven, he was getting through. He’d had to go to ridiculous lengths to do it, but if it ended this woman’s assault on him—and on Meg—it would be worth it.

Meghann pulled open the door to the hotel offices hallway, walking across the carpet with a spring in her step. Everything was coming together so perfectly for the ball. Surprisingly, there had been no major hitches. In fact, things were going better than she’d ever hoped.

This was going to be an extravaganza, a fairy tale come true. The news she’d just received was the crowning touch and too good to deliver over the phone. She wanted to see the look on Bruce’s face when she told him Cora and Bennet Jones—one of the couples from the old hotel registry—were alive and well.

And that they were coming to the ball.

They had been at the masquerade ball fifty years ago. They’d been young and in love—and from vastly different families, both of whom had managed to separate them. But Cora and Bennet had found each other again the night of Cinderella’s Masquerade Ball and had been together ever since.

Meghann sighed at the romantic tale. This time Cora and Bennet would have no trouble finding each other—they were going to be the guests of honor. The night would be special indeed.

Meghann rounded the corner, then came to an abrupt halt.

Bruce’s office door was open, and what Meg saw as she stared, dumbfounded, almost stopped her heart.

Bruce holding Charmaine in his arms. He didn’t see Meg, but Charmaine did. And a triumphant smile oiled the woman’s face as she nestled her cheek on Bruce’s chest.

As though sensing Meghann’s presence, Bruce turned and saw her. His expression was one of utter
horror. Evidently he was stunned he had gotten caught. Caught red-handed!

Or, more appropriately, blond-handed.

Her head spinning, Meg put her hands on her warm cheeks, then spun and dashed from the scene. She couldn’t bear to see them together. Her shock gave way to hurt, then anger. Rage burned in her at the thought of Bruce using her to make that woman jealous. That was what he must have been doing all along.

How could she have been so stupid as to let herself be manipulated like that? She was a first-rate fool. And Bruce was a first-rate cad.
I guess a leopard can’t change his spots.

She had believed him when he said there was nothing between him and Charmaine anymore. She guessed that was accurate; from what she’d seen, there wasn’t even room for air to separate them! How could she have been so foolish as to think he could possibly have harbored feelings for her when that woman was so obviously available?

She rubbed her eyes, trying to erase the sight of them in each other’s arms. But she knew that image—and the picture of Charmaine’s victorious grin—would haunt her for the rest of her life.

“Meg!”

Bruce pushed Charmaine away, but he was too late. Meghann was gone.

“Meghann!” he called out again, moving to chase after her, but Charmaine grasped his arm. He stared in
disbelief at the doorway for a moment.

“Let her go. You don’t need her. You have me.”

He yanked free of her hand, spinning to face his tormentor. “I don’t
want
you! Why can’t you understand that? Stay away from me. Stay away from Meghann and stay away from this hotel. Haven’t you done enough damage?” He saw again the horrified look on Meg’s face and despair flowed over him.

He had never struck a woman before, but as he stared down at Charmaine, he was tempted. Oh, how he was tempted.

She must have sensed his rage, for uncertainty filled her face and she took a step back from him.

Clenching his fists at his sides, he spoke to her in a firm, even voice. “If you ever come near me or Meghann or this hotel again, I will have you brought up on harassment charges.” With that, he turned and marched out to find Meghann.

He first ran out in the parking lot to see if he could catch her and was relieved to see her cream Honda snugly parked in its usual space. As he opened the door to go back inside, Charmaine was exiting. He gladly held the door for her permanent departure. “Don’t come back.”

She stopped directly in front of him and brushed her hand down his coat lapel. “You don’t really mean that,” she said with a flutter of her lashes.

He grabbed her hand. “Hands off, Charmaine. For good.” He released her hand with a jerk. “Stay out of my life.”

“You don’t have to get nasty about it.” She sashayed a few steps, then stopped and looked over her shoulder.
“Don’t think you’ve seen the last of me.”

“For both our sakes, you’d better be wrong. I meant what I said.”

She shrugged and strolled away, as though unimpressed with his ultimatums.

He tightened his hands into fists, then turned to head back into the hotel. Charmaine Altman didn’t matter. What mattered was finding Meghann.

But where could she be? He checked in the employee lounge, then in the offices and workrooms, but to no avail.
Meghann, where are you? Let me explain, please!

After a half an hour of searching, he checked the parking lot again. Gone! Her car had vanished. He should have waited out here by her car until she left, then he wouldn’t have missed her. He jumped in his car and raced to the only haven he could think of: her home.

At her place, he knocked a third time on her front door. Pounded, would be more like it. “Meghann, open up. I need to talk to you.” Still no answer. Lucky waited patiently beside him. If Meghann were here, wouldn’t she have let Lucky in with her? He pulled out his keys, tempted to burst in on her, but thought better of it and pocketed them again. He had to admit the place seemed deserted.

But if she didn’t come here, then where would she go?

Please, Lord, let me find her.

Twenty minutes later, Bruce stormed into his apartment but halted at the sullen faces. By the silent stares he was receiving, he guessed Meghann had been this
way.

Please, let her still be here.

“Your wife is pretty upset.” Brock’s accusing tone shattered the silence.

Bruce met his brother’s reproachful gaze without flinching. “Where is she?”

Brock pointed to the guest bedroom that she shared with her mother. “She’s packing.”

The words took Bruce’s breath away as effectively as if Brock had punched him. Hard. Drawing in a deep breath, Bruce gave his brother a curt nod and went to knock on the bedroom door. Meg’s mother opened it. She shook her head, throwing up her hands.

“Bruce, thank heaven. Maybe you can talk some sense into her.”

Gayle walked past him and he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

Meghann didn’t even look at him. Her focus was on the clothes she was cramming into her suitcase.

“Meg, it’s not what you think.”

She glared at him and snapped her suitcase shut. If that look had had substance, he would be mortally wounded. But he wasn’t dead yet.

“Give me a chance to explain.”

She pushed past him to yank the door open and marched out, suitcase in tow. He couldn’t believe she wasn’t even going to give him a chance to explain.

“What happened to ‘innocent until proven guilty’?” he called as he followed after her.

She set down the suitcase and turned on him. “You can hardly claim innocence. Don’t forget, I’m an eyewitness.
And believe me, I have already seen all the proof I care to.” Unshed tears glistened in her eyes. They were greener today, and he wanted to kiss her tears away.

“But—”

“You were holding her in your arms!”

“Not quite true. She held me. My hands were at my sides.”

This bit of information only served to further anger her. She sputtered, as though she wanted to say something, then clamped her mouth shut. Bruce shook his head. They’d been through so much together. How could Meg believe he’d do such a thing to her? “It sounds like your mind is made up and there is nothing I can say—not even the truth—to change it.”