Our Little Secret (15 page)

“Help? I don’t think interfering with a police investigation would be helpful, Lauren. I’m sure the police would rather have you stay out of it, and I’m certain they don’t need my help.”

“The Secret Service,” she mumbled.

He couldn’t have heard her, because he spoke over her. “Besides, I have that Board of Directors meeting for the Downtown Development Project, and you know how important it is that the mayor have a good impression of Duchaine Properties.”

“Yes, I suppose your family’s business is more important than my sister.”

“Of course it is,” he assured her, then seemed to realize the trap he’d fallen into. “Not that Meg isn’t important to you, honey, but she has a husband to take care of her now. I have to think about us. The success of Duchaine Properties will ensure our financial future. It’s my job to look out for our welfare.”

“Uh-huh.” Lauren knew he expected her to be pleased with his response, but only felt numb. Money was important to him; Meg wasn’t.

Jeff’s voice became hearty and encouraging,
probably in response to her lack of enthusiasm. He hated it when she was worried or tense. “So what did you do with the rest of your day? Did you get a chance to visit Aunt Betty and Uncle John?”

Damn,
she’d forgotten all about them. “No, I got my hair cut. I think you’ll like it.”

She heard several seconds of silence before Jeff’s voice came back, sounding cautious. “I suppose a few hours at the beauty salon might make you feel better.”

“I didn’t go to a salon, one of Gerald’s friends did it here. His partner, actually.”

“Gerald? What do you mean, his partner? Are they police officers? For God’s sake, why would a policeman be cutting your hair?”

She’d thought talking to Jeff would make her feel safe and secure. Instead, she was feeling more reckless every minute, like she’d been confined and needed to break free. Since she’d already admitted to half of today’s irresponsible behavior, she ignored his questions and blundered on with the rest of it. “It wasn’t to make me feel better, it was so I could look exactly like Meg when we go to the party at the Romanian embassy tonight.” Confession was supposed to be good for the soul.

“The Romanian… ? We? Lauren, what are you talking about?”

Nothing he would approve of, she was certain. Why make him worry? “Gosh, Jeff, I just realized how late it is. Drew’s waiting. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, honey, okay?”

“Lauren, wait—”

“’Bye.” She clicked off, then slowly raised one of her remaining endangered nails to her mouth before
remembering it was protected by an acrylic one. Her nail got a reprieve as she considered the brush-off she’d just accomplished. She wasn’t used to hiding things from Jeff, but sometimes men just didn’t understand the bond between women, especially between sisters.

Except Drew. He understood.

But Drew didn’t have an important job to worry about back home. He had skiing dates with snow bunnies. That was one big difference between him and Jeff. If she wanted to bother comparing them, that is. And she didn’t.

In fact, she’d like to forget about Drew altogether. That would be difficult, however, if he intended to spend the next few hours on a dance floor, fitting their bodies together.

She stubbornly blocked Drew from her mind and concentrated on the socializing she would have to do. Callista Featherstone hovered ominously in every imagined situation.

Lauren’s gaze strayed to the sherry on the bar built into Senator Creighton’s bookshelves. Perhaps a little liquid courage would help.

Drew tucked Lauren’s arm through his as they entered the embassy ballroom. He would have loved to touch more than her arm; he had wanted to ever since she’d appeared in that dress, but for tonight she was his new stepmother, not the tempting, headstrong bundle of nervous energy who both liked and despised him.

He dipped his head so Lauren could hear him over the buzz of the ballroom. “If we get separated, don’t leave this room with
anyone,
even if he turns out to be your mysterious Romanian.”

She looked panicked. “You said you’d stay with me.”

“I won’t let you get far, and I won’t take my eyes off you. But he might not approach you if I’m right beside you.” He scanned the crowd for familiar faces. “Do you think you can remember all those people Gerald drilled you on?”

She shook her head firmly. “I don’t think so. Sometimes people don’t look like their photographs—”

“Meg, you sexy devil! I haven’t seen you in ages.”
Lauren was whirled from Drew’s arm and into the embrace of a tall, sandy-haired man. “I told you to marry me, but did you listen? No, you married that old coot, instead. He might have more money, sweetheart, but I have more stamina.”

Drew crossed his arms and regarded the man tolerantly. “Hello, Senator Pierson.”

“Drew Creighton! Nice to see you! Where’s that old man of yours? I must challenge him to a duel for the hand of this fair maiden.”

Drew worried for a moment, but Lauren freed herself from Senator Pierson’s embrace and picked up on his hint without hesitation.

“Paul, who are you kidding?” Lauren said, kissing the man’s cheek. “You don’t give a damn about fair maidens. And if you thought I qualified you wouldn’t have your lecherous paws all over me.”

Very good. She’d done better than he hoped.

“Ha! You’re right about that. I like my women bold and experienced. So where is that sly old man of yours? I can’t believe I had to hear about your wedding on the news.”

“He was called away on business,” Drew said.

Pierson’s eyes never left Lauren. “Is that so? Well, it’ll serve that irresponsible son of a bitch right if I steal his woman. Come on, Meg. Let’s do a round on the dance floor before I get too loaded to see straight.”

Lauren allowed herself to be swept off without as much as a backward glance. Drew frowned, grabbed a drink from a passing waiter, and found a spot where he could watch from the sidelines.

She was easy to keep track of on the dance floor. His eyes were drawn to her smooth, flowing movements
no matter how many couples came between them. He wasn’t the only one watching, either. Word of Senator Creighton’s new wife passed quickly through the room, and Drew noticed several heads turn her way. Or maybe they were as mesmerized by the attractive, laughing young woman as he was.

She looked more relaxed every second. What had happened to no-nonsense, sensible Lauren? He took a long drink of champagne and clenched his jaw, noting which people seemed most interested in Lauren.

After watching several minutes of close dancing and Senator Pierson’s hand sliding down Lauren’s back to rest irritatingly close to her swaying bottom, Drew left his glass on a table and crossed the dance floor.

“Excuse me, Senator. I’m afraid I promised to stick close to Meg tonight.” He forced his way between Lauren and Pierson, pulling her close and continuing the dance. Senator Pierson acquiesced, but leaned close to Lauren and said, “If you ever get tired of the old man, Meg, you know where to find me. Just be sure to ditch your babysitter here first.” He clicked his tongue twice while winking at Lauren, punched Drew on the arm, and left.

Lauren watched him go with a bemused look. “Are you sure he’s a good friend of your dad’s? He sure put the moves on me.”

“Did he?” Drew aimed a hard stare at Pierson’s back. The man was probably no more than fifty, young and handsome enough to be a serious threat. “He’s probably all talk, but only because he values my dad’s friendship. Otherwise you’d be fair game.”

“But I’m married! That is, Meg’s married—”

“Meg Sutherland!” a woman interrupted. “But I
hear it’s Meg Creighton now. How very romantic, the secretary marrying her boss.” Drew turned in time to see the woman give him a head-to-toe glance that could have chilled a blowtorch before addressing Lauren again. “I suppose your husband isn’t able to fulfill his obligations tonight,” she said, leaving no doubt that she was referring to more than accompanying his wife on the dance floor.

Anger gathered inside Drew, but before he could let fly with a nasty retort, Lauren moved closer to Drew and said, “Isn’t it wonderful that my stepson is so willing to help out? He’s such a good—” She hesitated as she fixed Drew with a coy look. “—dancer.”

Just when he thought she was going to be able to pull this off. Drew whirled her away before she could say more.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing? That woman is the president’s chief advisor on domestic affairs,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Really? Good for her. She seems to hate my sister.” Lauren darted evil looks over his shoulder in the woman’s direction. “Why is that?”

“I don’t know. She’s too old to have been one of my dad’s former lovers. Maybe she just hates beautiful, young women like Meg who take a shortcut up the power ladder. Especially if they belong to the other party.” He took a close look at Lauren’s gray-green eyes, still flashing with aggression. “And where the hell did this other side of you come from?”

“I don’t know.” She gave him a bemused smile that made his heart skip a beat. “I was nervous, but then I just started being Meg. My sister has an outgoing personality. Effervescent.”

“I’m sure Paul Pierson found you effervescent. Doris Atherton probably thinks you’re a bitch.”

Lauren shrugged. “She already did. Besides, I kind of like speaking my mind. Where can I get another drink?”

Drew wasn’t sure she needed to loosen her tongue, but he couldn’t complain. For the most part, Lauren was following the script, being conspicuously social and provocative. He just hadn’t expected her to be so good at it. It should have confirmed his suspicion that she was just as phony as all the others, but Lauren’s phoniness had nothing to do with flirting. He was beginning to think the phony part of Lauren was the controlled, practical woman who met all her parents’ expectations. The woman who was engaged to the ever-so-sensible Jeff.

Drew steered them to the side and snagged two champagne flutes. He took a hearty gulp, but Lauren only had time for one genteel sip before a medallion-covered Romanian dignitary demanded an introduction. He appeared to be at least a couple decades older than the man they were looking for, the one Lauren described with an irritating smile as sounding “cultured and sexy.”

“Ahh, Mrs. Creighton,” the man said. “I thought this was you. I saw you and your new husband on the news.”

“Did you?”

Lauren sounded genuinely charmed by the fact that the man watched TV. Drew nearly snorted at her lame attempt to flirt but was surprised to see that she was on target. The man beamed like a full moon. “I must
hold such a beautiful woman in my arms, if only for a few short minutes,” he said. “Immediately.”

“Gag me,” Drew muttered, but Lauren smiled at the dignitary. She tossed back the rest of her champagne and handed the empty glass to Drew. “I’ll be right back,” she assured him happily. Drew was left holding two empty glasses as Lauren glided off in an embrace that held her conspicuous cleavage far too close to the Romanian’s chest.

Drew stuffed down hors d’oeuvres and exchanged quick greetings with his father’s friends while keeping an anxious eye on the dance floor. Just when he’d had enough of the Romanian’s snug hold on Lauren, the dance ended and she was appropriated by a handsome, dark-haired man who held her even closer and executed moves that made Lauren’s dress flair and flip alluringly as he spun her across the floor. Drew moved closer. If that was their sexy Romanian, he seemed to have recovered from his concern for Meg. By the time Drew cut in, Lauren’s face was flushed with pleasure and her partner’s was alive with interest.

“Hi, Mom,” he said, surprising the man into releasing Lauren to Drew’s waiting arms. “Thanks for keeping my stepmother entertained,” he told him. “I’ll take over now.” The man offered Lauren a gracious, if confused, bow as Drew danced her away.

He remembered to hold her at a respectful distance, despite the possessive feelings that made him want to crush her to him. He frowned at the sparkle in her eyes and the exposed swell of her breasts that rose and fell with each excited breath. Looking at them, he became a bit excited himself, which only irritated him more.

“Enjoying your new social life?” he asked dryly.

“Very much. Why, aren’t I supposed to?”

“You’re supposed to be getting information, not whisker burns from tangoing cheek-to-cheek with every Don Juan on Embassy Row.”

She laughed. “How can I do that if you keep cutting in? Is my stepson jealous?”

The fact that she’d hit it exactly on the head didn’t make him more cheerful. “Was that him?”

“No, David’s an attaché with the British Embassy, and he’s not a Don Juan, either. He was very sweet.”

Sweet David made his jaw clench. “And I suppose the Romanian field marshal was holding you close so he could whisper state secrets in your ear?”

“His medals were cold,” Lauren giggled. “I thought that long dangling one was going to drop right down my dress.”

“So did I,” Drew grumbled.

“Mrs. Creighton!”

Lauren released him as she turned, and a large, florid man pumped her free hand with both of his own. Draping an arm over Drew’s shoulder, he said, “And you must be Harlan’s son. Glad to meet you, boy.”