WHITELAW'S WEDDING Read online

  Manda huffed. "All right. Let's get this over with. I'm more than ready to call it a night."

  He guided her toward the bar. The moment Boyd saw them, he stopped talking to the woman on the bar stool next to him. His gaze lingered on them as they approached.

  "Hello, Boyd," Manda said, then leaned over to give him a brotherly kiss on the cheek. "You remember Hunter Whitelaw, don't you?"

  "Certainly," Boyd said. "Nice to see you again, Mr. Whitelaw."

  "Call me Hunter." He tightened his hold around her waist and pulled her closer to him. "Any friend of my Manda's is a friend of mine."

  "Yes, of course." Boyd managed a tight-lipped smile.

  "I'll see you at the clinic Monday," Manda said.

  Before Boyd could reply, Chris came barreling through the crowd, dragging the sex-kitten redhead with him. He released his hold on the woman when he stopped beside Hunter. With the first words out of his mouth, Manda realized Chris was drunk.

  Chris glared at her. "You wouldn't come here with me, but he obviously didn't have a problem getting you here." Chris pointed his finger in Manda's face. "What I want to know is why him?" Chris directed his gaze toward Boyd. "Aren't you curious? Don't you want to know why she prefers this big ape to you or me?"

  "You're drunk, Austin," Boyd said. "Otherwise, I'd have to demand that you apologize to Manda immediately."

  "Apologize?" Chris cackled with inebriated glee. "All right. Manda, let me apologize for asking you if your taste in men has drastically changed. My brother was a gentleman of the highest degree. Hell, even ole Boyd here and Grady Alders are gentlemen. But this—" Chris tapped Hunter in the center of his chest "—uncouth, white trash, farm boy has nothing to recommend him to a lady, unless that lady has discovered what they say about big feet being a indication of a big—"

  Hunter grasped Chris's arm, folded it against his back and with quiet but deadly force shoved him against the bar. "Take your girlfriend and get the hell out of here before I'm compelled to go against my better judgment and kick your ass."

  Manda held her breath as Chris's eyes widened in shock that quickly turned to fear. When he nodded nervously, Hunter released him. Chris staggered away from the bar and grabbed the redhead, who was looking appreciatively at Hunter, and hauled her back onto the dance floor. Manda released her breath. She had forgotten her lines, couldn't remember what she was supposed to say.

  "The man's an idiot," Boyd said.

  "On that, we agree," Hunter said, then reached out and pulled Manda to his side. "Ready to get out of here, brat?"

  She forced a smile, but when Hunter nuzzled her neck, the quiver that raced along her nerve endings was real. "Let's go to my house," she told him, finally remembering part of what she was supposed to say.

  They bid a quick good-night to Boyd, then linked together like lovers headed straight for home and bed, Hunter and Manda left the Blues Club. Hunter had parked his Lexus in the second row of a large, well-lit parking area to the left of the building. They maintained their arm-in-arm walk all the way to the car. Just in case someone was watching them.

  "Damn!" Hunter groaned as he stopped suddenly. "Son of a bitch."

  At first Manda didn't understand what was wrong, why he was cursing. But when she glanced at Hunter and then followed his line of vision, she gasped. It was starting already, and this was only her first date with Hunter. She stood frozen to the spot, trembling from head to toe as her mind processed the fact that all four tires on Hunter's Lexus had been slashed.

  * * *

  Chapter 5

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  Hunter called the police and then a tow truck to haul his Lexus to the garage. Officer McDowell told him that this was the third time in the past two weeks that a patron of the Blues Club had had their tires slashed. The suspects were a group of teenage boys, not exactly an organized gang, but well on their way to becoming one. So far, the police hadn't been able to catch the boys in the act and had no proof against them that would hold up in court.

  While he dealt with the situation, Manda remained unnaturally quiet. When she'd first realized the tires had been slashed, she had gasped and stared at the tires as if in a trance. He'd given her a gentle shake and she'd snapped out of it quickly.

  "It's already started," she had said. "He did this. It's his first warning." Her voice had been deceptively calm, despite the fact that her hands had been shaking and her face void of color.

  "We don't know that this has anything to do with your nutcase. It could be a coincidence."

  "Just like Boyd's food poisoning was a coincidence."

  He hadn't been able to convince her she was wrong, not even after the police mentioned that this wasn't the first incident of tire slashing here at the club.

  Later, on the cab ride to her house, Manda sat beside him, ramrod-straight, chin lifted and a somber expression on her face. He sensed that she was struggling to control her emotions, to prove to herself—and perhaps to him—that she was strong and brave and in control.

  The cab pulled up in front of Manda's house on Bermuda Road

  , a meandering street that followed the Poloma River's path. The houses in this area were all new and sat on five-acre plots, each with access to the river. In doing his research on Manda, as he did on each client when he took a new case, he had discovered she'd had this house built eight years ago. After she and her grandmother had returned from their year in Europe, Grams had moved into the family home on North Pine Street

  , with Perry and Owen. But Manda had rented an apartment, and several years later moved into this metal-roofed cottage, which was reminiscent of small tropical island homes.

  Hunter paid the driver, then assisted Manda in getting out of the cab. Once on her feet, she pulled away from him. He followed her up the sidewalk, up the steps and onto the large, wraparound front porch. She removed a set of keys from her purse and quickly unlocked the door. Pausing in the doorway, she turned to face him.

  "Why didn't you have the cab wait for you? I'm all right. I don't need baby-sitting."

  He placed his left hand on the door post and leaned toward her. "I'm not staying to baby-sit. I'm staying because any man who cared about a woman wouldn't walk her to her door and leave her. Especially not when she's upset and on the verge of tears."

  "Damn it, I'm not on the verge of tears."

  "Let's not argue," he said. "Just be a good girl and let me come inside for a while."

  As if all the fight had suddenly drained out of her, Manda slumped her shoulders, sighed and turned around. She left the door open behind her as she entered the house and flipped on the overhead lighting in the foyer. From out of nowhere a springer spaniel came galloping toward Manda. He halted in front of her, his tongue panting, his tail wagging.

  "Did you miss me, you big baby?" Manda leaned down to scratch behind the dog's ears. "Have you been a good boy? Huh? Want to go outside for a while?"

  As if suddenly realizing that Manda wasn't alone, the dog zeroed in on Hunter. He sniffed the air, then bared his teeth and growled.

  "No, no," Manda said. "Oxford, this is Hunter. He's our friend." She patted the dog tenderly, then looked at Hunter. "Say something to him and hold out the back of your hand so he'll know you don't pose a threat to me."

  "Hey there, fellow. You sure are a good watchdog for your mommy, aren't you?" Hunter stuck out his hand. Oxford sniffed, then wagged his tail, prompting Hunter to pet the dog. "Are we friends now?"

  "I believe he likes you." Manda offered Hunter a fragile smile. "Come on in and make yourself at home, while I let my little monster outside."

  She led him into the great room, which appeared to be a multi-functional area. The walls were painted some odd color that reminded him of Dijon mustard. There were two sitting areas, one clustered around the fireplace, which was flanked by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and the other apparently set up as an entertainment center with a widescreen TV, VCR and audio equipment.

  "If you're planning on staying, then I'll
make us some coffee," she said. "Is decaf all right? I don't drink regular at this time of night."

  "Don't go to any trouble."

  "If I don't do something, I'm going to start screaming," she admitted. "Sit down. I won't be long."

  He remained standing. "Why don't I help you? We can talk while you fix the coffee."

  "What's there to talk about? Your first date with me ended on a real bang, didn't it? I'll bet you can't wait to see what happens on our second date."

  She wasn't crying. And he figured she wouldn't cry. Not in front of him. Perhaps not even later when she was alone. He suspected that she had cried all her tears years ago. But she was hurting. He could see the pain in her eyes, could sense the uneasiness she was experiencing.

  "If you want to scream, then go ahead and scream," he told her.

  Pressing her lips together, she shook her head.

  "It might make you feel better," he said.

  "No, it won't help," Manda said. "Tell me something, are you really convinced that your slashed tires had nothing to do with our being on a date tonight?"

  "I'm not one hundred percent sure. Maybe seventy-five percent to eighty percent sure. There's always the off chance that it was a copycat crime, done by your Mr. Maniac, as Perry calls him."

  "Thanks for admitting that there is a chance it was him and not the teenagers the police suspect of similar crimes." She took a deep breath. "Come on out to the kitchen with me, if you'd like."

  The big modern kitchen was a hybrid, with every up-to-date appliance imaginable, but decorated in an old-fashioned country style, with warm woodwork, yellow walls and upholstered chairs at the antique wooden table. A set of French doors opened up onto a screened back porch.

  She opened the door and shooed Oxford outside, then walked over to the refrigerator. When she removed the, sealed bowl in which the coffee beans were stored, her hands shook so much that she almost dropped the container. Hunter rushed toward her, grabbed the bowl and set it on the counter.

  He clasped her hands in his. She glanced down at the floor, obviously trying to avoid eye contact with him. "Why don't you sit down and let me fix the coffee?" he said.

  Her gaze shot straight to his face. "I don't want any coffee." She jerked her hands out of his and stormed across the room. With her back to him, she said, "I don't know if I can go through with this. Wondering what's going to happen next … when he'll make his next move. Afraid you'll wind up getting hurt, maybe even killed."

  He came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her and lowered his head to nuzzle the side of her face. "Trust me, Manda. I'm not going to wind up dead. And neither are you."

  "How can you be so sure?" She closed her eyes and leaned back into him.

  He kissed her left temple. "From everything Perry has told me, I had some experts who work for the Dundee agency compile a profile of our Mr. Maniac. He's not going to act until we announce our engagement. He's not threatened by your casually dating other men. He's just determined to make sure you never marry anyone else."

  "So you're saying that we're safe until we tell the world that we're getting married."

  "Which will be next weekend. In a few days, I'll be seen at the local jewelry store picking out a ring, but I won't pop the question to you until next Saturday night."

  Manda shivered. "Then the letters will start, the way they did when I became engaged to Mike."

  He hugged her to him. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it to Mike's funeral. I was out of the country and didn't know about what had happened until weeks afterward."

  "I know." She clutched his arms where they crisscrossed her waist. "I received your note and the flowers."

  "You'll never have to go through that again. The next time you love a man and plan to marry him, everything will come off the way it should and you'll live happily ever after." Keeping her confined in his embrace, he eased her around so that she faced him. "If you start questioning yourself, if it begins to seem like too much of a risk, just remind yourself of why we're doing this."

  "So I can live happily ever after with the man of my dreams?" A tentative smile quivered on her lips.

  "Right." Hunter grinned. "By the way, did I mention that I'm meeting you for lunch tomorrow?"

  "But I'm having lunch with Perry and— Oh. You're coming to the house for lunch with the family?"

  "Perry set it up with Gwen today. Think what an interesting group we'll make. Perry and Gwen. You and me. Grams."

  "You do realize that Grams is going to stir a stink when we tell her that we're getting married. She'd going to think I've lost my mind. And if this were a real romance, then she'd be right."

  "But it's not real," Hunter said. "And remember this—no matter how much you want to tell Grams the truth, you can't. It's not that I don't trust her, but if she told anyone—Bobbie Rue, Gwen, Mrs. Austin, one of her bridge buddies—they might tell someone else."

  "I understand. It's just that I hate the thought of lying to her. I've lied to her only one time in my life. That's why she believed me when I told her that you'd come on to me that day when Perry caught me doing my seduction routine by the pool. You must have been laughing yourself silly. How did you manage to keep a straight face when I—"

  "I wasn't laughing." Hunter slid his hands up and down her arms. "You don't know how tempted I was. I had to keep reminding myself that not only were you Perry's kid sister, but that you were only sixteen."

  "Are you saying that you were attracted to me?"

  "Do you want me to be completely honest with you?"

  She nodded.

  "I've never forgotten the way you looked standing there in nothing but the bottom half of your bikini. You were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. And if you'd been eighteen instead of sixteen… Well, let's just say that it wouldn't have mattered if you were my best friend's kid sister."

  "And all this time I thought…"

  She stared at him and for a split second he saw that same hungry look that had been in her eyes all those years ago.

  Without thought of the consequences, he cradled her face with his hands, lowered his head and kissed her. Her lips were warm and soft. Moist and yielding. She complied with the demands of his mouth, mimicking his marauding movements, accepting every thrust, every nip and giving as good as she got. While he held her face, she flattened her open palms across his chest, whether to push him away or to brace herself, he wasn't sure. But she made no move to withdraw, so he continued the kiss, deepening it until every nerve in his body came to full alert. He ached with the need to take her. Here. Now. His sex hardened and throbbed. If he didn't stop immediately, he'd find it difficult to walk away and leave her tonight. He was ready. But despite the needy way she was responding, she wasn't ready. She was reacting to the memory of a hot summer day seventeen years ago when she had wanted to experiment with sex and he had been her chosen partner.

  He ended the kiss. She gasped for air and gazed up at him, her eyes filled with passion. For a couple of minutes they simply looked at each other, each of them slowly gaining control over themselves and the moment.

  "Well," she said as she took a step away from him. "That certainly got out of hand fast, didn't it?"

  "Yes, it did. Just goes to show that we shouldn't have too much trouble faking being in love. After all, in the beginning of a relationship passion is pretty much the driving force, and you and I seem to have more than enough passion."

  "Was that the way it was with you and your ex-wife? A lot of passion in the beginning and then love after—"

  "I don't think there was ever any love. Not on her part." Hunter grimaced. "And probably not much love on my part, either. I made a big mistake with Selina. She married me to piss off her old man and prove him wrong about us. I married a type, not a woman. I thought she was exactly what I wanted and she thought I was what she needed. We were both wrong."

  "Then she didn't leave you with a broken heart?"

  He thumped on his chest. "My heart's still intact. My pri
de took a beating. And trusting another woman won't ever be easy for me." The one thing he could never tell Manda was that when he first met Selina, she had reminded him of her. She'd been a gorgeous blonde, surrounded by drooling admirers. Her father was filthy rich and she was daddy's darling. But Selina hadn't been a sixteen-year-old virgin, so she hadn't been off limits. "What about you, brat? You've been deeply in love twice and lost both men. Has that made you afraid to ever love again?"

  "You don't pull any punches, do you?"

  "I don't see any need. I've always thought that getting straight to the point was the best way."

  Manda opened the French doors, walked across the screened-in porch and outside. Hunter followed. She sat down on the back steps. He sat beside her. Oxford came running up to them for some more petting and then raced back out into the yard to chase a squirrel.

  "I met Rodney when Daddy was in the hospital," Manda said. "He was an intern. All the nurses had a crush on him. I suppose he was my male counterpart. Fair, blond and blue-eyed. We had so much fun together. Had so much in common. I guess it was inevitable that we fell in love. His mother and Grams were delighted. They belonged to several of the same organizations and were already acquainted."

  "I'm so sorry, Manda. I can't imagine what you went through when he died."

  "I thought I'd lose my mind. It took me nearly two years to start living again." She rubbed her hands up and down her legs, then cupped her knees as she stared out at the moonlit river behind her house. "Six years after Rodney died, I met Mike. Actually Boyd introduced us. Boyd was Mike's grief counselor. You see, Mike's wife had died the year before and he hadn't come to grips with that loss. With Mike, I could talk about Rodney and he could talk about his wife, Chassie. We became dear friends and after we'd been dating for about a year, we decided that we should get married. We weren't in love, but we did love each other and we both wanted a home and children and… If only I'd known that someone would kill him because of me."

  Hunter slipped his arm around her shoulders. They sat there on the back steps for quite some time. They didn't talk anymore. Words weren't necessary. An odd sense of calm settled over them and Hunter thought how good it was to be able to share solitude with another human being.