Million-Dollar Bride

by Karen Toller Whittenburg

  “Mack?” She touched his arm, and one boot dropped to the floor. “I don’t want this.”

  “What? This?” He bent and kissed her with lingering hunger. “Or this?” His hand cupped her breast; his thumb stroked lightly across her nipple. “Or this?” His tongue traveled a tender distance to tease her earlobe and send shivers of longing coursing through her. “Or this?” Dropping the other boot, he stretched out beside her on the bed, gathered her into his arms and seared her with a devastating caress that burned reason into ambiguity and principle into relentless passion.

  Her fingers in his hair, she kissed him and held him close and told her heart it didn’t matter if this experience wouldn’t be the lovemaking she’d imagined. It would mean no less to her because it was merely sex for him. Love wasn’t an equal-opportunity experience. He didn’t have to love her in order for the act to have meaning. She loved him enough to make it right, to forget that he really belonged to Leanne.

  His lips returned to hers, gentle and insistent. She breathed in his scent, savored the touch of his hands on her body and then regretfully, resolutely pulled away. “I can’t do this. I want to, but I can’t.”

  He looked into her eyes. Pushing up, he sat beside her, but kept his hands pressed into the mattress on either side of her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I should have realized we didn’t have protection, that you wouldn’t be prepared.”

  “Protection?” she repeated. “We need protection? I don’t have a gun or pistol or anything, but there’s a broom on the back porch.”

  His smile was quick, but tender. “I was referring to a, uh, different kind of protection,” he said gently. “More like preventing pregnancy rather than discouraging prowlers.”

  Of course. She felt the heat of embarrassment as it spread under her skin in a soft, warm rush. “Oh,” she muttered. “Oh. That kind of prepared. I see. I thought you meant…Well, I was thinking about Leanne, you see, and wondering what she’d do if she found out that we—that you…And I thought she might…well, come over here and be mad and… I guess she wouldn’t do that…would she?”

  He touched her hair, looping a wayward strand behind her ear with a light and incredibly seductive movement. She could barely breathe for looking at him, and at that moment she would have willingly forsworn chocolate for the rest of her life if only she could taste his kiss. “No,” he said quietly. “It wouldn’t be in character for her to follow a man and wife into their bedroom.”

  Eliza swallowed hard. “But…she’s your fiancee.”

  “I believe having a wife pretty much wipes out any previous engagement.”

  “But, Mack, you made a commitment to her you never made to me. We can’t just pretend that it was cancelled out by a marriage that is nothing but a pretense.”

  He leaned closer, his gaze holding hers, his chest only inches away from the rapid rise and fall of her breasts. “It doesn’t feel like a pretense.” His lips grazed hers with temptation. “In fact, I’m beginning to feel very married.”

  She swallowed and managed to produce a quivery whisper. “How does it feel to be…married?”

  He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I can explain it, if you’d like. Just say the word.”

  Could she? Should she? “Protection?” she asked.

  His sigh warmed her lips and he slowly drew back to look down at her. “That wasn’t the word I had in mind, but it’s pretty persuasive. Are you saying you don’t have any kind of protection?”

  Sincere regret flooded through her. “The broom is about the only protective device in the whole house. Unless you count the mousetrap under the kitchen sink.”

  “I wouldn’t want to count that, no.” He rolled over and dropped beside her onto the mattress. “I could go to a drugstore.”

  “No, you can’t. It’s too far to walk, and my car’s still at the boutique.” She touched his arm lightly, hesitantly offering to share his frustration. “Maybe it’s for the best, Mack. I mean, sex always complicates relationships. It says so in all the women’s magazines. And besides, just because we’ve been through a lot together and we’re feeling sort of attached, who’s to say we’ll feel that way tomorrow? I mean, after we’ve located the dress and everything’s been explained and everyone understands, you might be thanking your lucky stars that you’re not involved with me for another second.”

  “Maybe you’ll be the thankful one.”

  “I already am,” she said softly. He drew back, a frown beginning in his eyes and on his mouth, but she lifted her hand to touch his cheek and to keep him from moving farther away. “I’m thankful to have accidentally fallen into your life. Thankful that we shared a handful of hours. Thankful that the Worth gown brought me a lot of trouble and at least a million dollars worth of memories.”

  He turned his head to press a kiss into her palm, and a dewy pleasure unfolded like morning inside her. “Eliza,” he whispered. “My million-dollar bride.”

  The words, the tenderness in his voice, the desire in his eyes combined to produce the most seductive, sensual yearning she’d ever known. She sighed with excruciating regret. “You’d think for that much money you’d get better protection than a broom.”

  “Maybe you should hit me with a frying pan and put me out of my misery for the night.”

  She winced at the thought. “The other bedroom is through that door and down the hall to the left. You should probably go there before I start imagining new ways to make you miserable.”

  He didn’t even give the open doorway a glance. “I’m not going to another bedroom. I’m staying here…with my wife.” Rolling onto his side, he cupped her chin in his hand. “If I’m going to be miserable, you can bet that you are, too.”

  “Mack, we can’t spend another night watching each other not sleep and taking turns in the shower. That will only make us tired and cranky and run up the water bill.”

  His smile was full of slow amusement and devastating intentions. “Then we’ll just have to think of something else to do. Something involving your lips…” He leaned closer. “…and my lips…” Her heart nearly burst with anticipation. “…and your body…” His warm breath mingled with hers. “…and my lips…”

  She managed to slip her fingertip between his lips and hers. “But we can’t. We don’t have any—”

  “…and your fingers…and my lips….” He took her fingertip into his mouth and sucked lightly…and she forgot how to talk. A dizzy moment later, he kissed an erotic path from her lips to the hollow be low her ear. “There are other ways to feel married, Eliza,” he whispered. “Let me explain….”

  And to her astonished delight, he proved he was very good with explanations.

  Chapter 13

  “Are you sure they said ‘Chuck’?”

  Eliza stopped looking out the front window long enough to frown at Mack. “For the hundredth time, yes. That isn’t a name I’m likely to misunderstand.”

  “I just can’t believe he got up this morning and decided to go to work.”

  “He didn’t. I explained to the manager of the limousine service that I was a friend of his and that I was only going to be in Kansas City this one day and I’d really appreciate it if he could put me in touch with him. Then the manager asked me if I needed a limo while I was in town, and I said, only if I can hire Chuck to drive me around. Then I laughed, kind of like this….” She demonstrated. “And I said it would be worth a hundred dollars to me just to see the look on Chuck’s face when he found out I had hired him.” She turned back to the window. “I was really tempted to say it would be worth a million bucks, but I was afraid the manager wouldn’t take me seriously.”

  “He bit for the extra hundred?”

  “He nibbled. That’s when I said—very softly, like I was just talking to myself—that I’d give ten times that amount just to be able to surprise Chuck and spend a couple of hours alone with him. The service manager couldn’t get my credit-card number printed onto that invoice fast enough, and he promised Chuck would be here in
an hour if he had to send him special delivery.”

  “You’re paying a thousand dollars on the slight chance that this guy will actually be able to find Chuck and send him over here?”

  “No, we settled on two hundred fifty, plus the normal rental charge.”

  “I think that’s illegal.”

  “He quoted a price and I agreed to it. There’s nothing illegal about that.”

  “It’s unethical, and I can’t believe you’d stoop to bribery.”

  “I may spend the next thirty years in prison for trying on a wedding dress and getting mixed up in a kidnapping. Bribery is small potatoes on my road to ruin, believe me.”

  “You’re not going to prison, but you probably are going to lose your two hundred fifty dollars.”

  “Actually, I was planning to borrow that much from you. But I’ll pay you back…no matter how long it takes. Don’t worry, though, I have a good feeling about this.”

  “I don’t know how you can be optimistic.” Mack came to stand behind her and look over her shoulder out the window. A delicious quiver shimmied through her with his nearness, and she leaned ever so slightly against his broad, warm chest, acknowledging her memories of last night and the hope that, later, after they recovered the dress and resolved their immediate problems, he would still want her.

  “Even if Chuck is in town,” Mack continued, “I can’t imagine he’s dumb enough to pick up a fare, especially one that requested him by name. He must know we’d be looking for him.”

  “It makes more sense to me that he’d want everything to appear normal.”

  “I don’t think he’s that smart.”

  She glanced up. “Why don’t you have another cup of coffee while we’re waiting?”

  “No, thanks, I’ve had my quota this morning. So you honestly think he’ll just drive up to your house?”

  “Yes, I do. It’s only a hunch, but yes, I think there’s a better-than-even chance he will be here within the next ten minutes.”

  “And what’s the plan if he doesn’t?”

  “Why don’t you check your pocket? Surely there’s a plan in there somewhere.”

  “Very funny. Maybe I will have another cup of coffee.”

  A limousine turned the corner and drove slowly down the street toward the house. Eliza smiled and let the curtain drop into place. “Forget the coffee,” she said. “It’s showtime.”

  CHUCK TOOK ONE LOOK at her and went pale. “I must have the wrong address.”

  “Oh, no,” she said, smiling as she moved down the walk toward him. “You’re at the right place and you’re right on time, too.”

  He turned on his heel, but Mack had gone out the back of the house, circled the limousine and now was leaning against the driver’s door. “Hello, Chuck,” he said. “Going my way?”

  “Now, look…” Chuck glanced from her to Mack. “You probably aren’t going to believe this, but I was just thinkin’ I owed you two a big apology.”

  “Really?” Mack smiled. “Let’s hear it.”

  “Yes, I can’t wait to hear it,” Eliza agreed, coming up behind Chuck and poking him with the handle of her hairbrush. “Get in the car.”

  He jumped and stumbled toward the limo. “You’ve got this all wrong.”

  “And we’re going to give you every opportunity to convince us how, Chuck.” Mack opened the rear door. “Get in. We’re going for a little drive.”

  “I’m not goin’ anywhere with you.”

  “Get in.” Eliza gave him another poke with the hairbrush. “It’s our turn to chauffeur you around town.”

  “But—but…I’m the only one who can drive this limo. That’s company policy.”

  “Is it, now?” Mack gestured toward the back seat. “Well, you know, Chuck, I’ve been thinking I need to find out what the official company policy is on kidnapping customers.”

  “That was just a joke. I didn’t hurt you or anything. And you’re home again.” He laughed nervously. “No harm done. Just a joke, see?”

  Mack clamped his hand on Chuck’s shoulder. “I’m not sure who enjoyed the punchline more, me or Eliza. Now, get in the limo before I decide to turn your sorry butt over to the FBI.” Chuck’s hand clenched, but Mack was quick and sidestepped out of swinging range. “Now, now, Chuck, didn’t anyone ever tell you that you should never take a swing at the person you’re trying to apologize to? Eliza and I just want to have a little chat with you. Nothing to be upset about. We have a little…proposition for you.”

  “Proposition?” He looked skeptically from him to Eliza. “What kind of proposition?”

  “An exchange kind of proposition,” she said, moving to the front passenger door. “You give us something we want and we give you something you want.”

  “You haven’t got anything I want.”

  “Ah, now, let’s not be too quick.” Mack kept the chauffeur cornered between the rear door and the limousine body. “Hear us out before you start talking like James Cagney.”

  Chuck’s mouth pursed with rebellious indecision. “You’re wantin’ me to hand over the million-dollar dress. That’s it, isn’t it?”

  “Get in the car,” Mack said in a no-nonsense voice.

  “But you want the dress back?” His question seemed curiously intense. “You’re not going to let me keep it, are you?”

  “You know you have to return the dress, Chuck. That’s a given.”

  Chuck sighed, nodded and almost smiled. “Okay, then. Let’s go.” He got into the vehicle and, with a puzzled look, Mack closed the door. He looked across the sleek gray roof at Eliza and shrugged. “The pigeon has landed, but stay alert. He can’t be trusted.”

  She opened the car door and slid into the front seat, her hand briefly brushing Mack’s as he got in behind the wheel. He pressed the automatic lock, turned the key and put the limousine in gear.

  “Okay,” Chuck said. “You got me out here. What’s the deal?”

  “All in good time.” She assumed an authoritative tone as she shifted in the seat so she could keep an eye on Chuck. “Where’s the dress?”

  Chuck turned and stared out the window. When he looked at her again, there was something akin to relief in his eyes. “It’s in the trunk.”

  She and Mack exchanged a quick, incredulous look. “This trunk?” Mack asked suspiciously. “You expect us to believe you’re carrying it around in the trunk of this limousine?”

  “I was going to find someplace to dump it.”

  “Right,” Mack drawled. “After all the trouble you went to to get it.”

  “I know. And if I was you, I probably wouldn’t trust me, either. But you’ve got to believe me. My life has been hell since I got my hands on that crummy dress.”

  Eliza exchanged a quick, confused look with Mack.

  “Yeah,” Chuck continued. “In the last twenty-four hours, the screwiest things have been happening to me. It’s like I’m in the Twilight Zone or something.”

  Mack checked the rearview mirror. “What are you, a kidnapper with a guilty conscience?”

  “No.” Chuck shook his head. “No, it’s worse than that. It’s my ex-wife.”

  “Your ex-wife has the dress?” Mack asked.

  “The dress is in the trunk. I already told you that. I snuck it out of the apartment this morning when Shelly was in the shower.”

  “Shelly is your ex-wife?”

  “No. Shelly is my girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend, that is. You see, Shelly thought I bought the dress for her, and when she seen it, she starts dancing around and asking me when we’re gonna get married and how many bridesmaids she ought to have, and I’m trying to tell her the dress isn’t for her. But she won’t believe me, thinks I’m teasing, and then nothing will do but she has to put the dress on. And just as she gets all the buttons done up, Cynthia shows up.”

  “Cynthia?” Eliza asked.

  “Cynthia,” he confirmed sadly. “My ex-wife. Well, she takes one look at Shelly in the million-dollar dress and busts right out into tears, sayin’ re
ally dumb stuff like how she had come back because she wanted our marriage to work and how she thinks we ought to try counseling.” He looked at Eliza. “You coulda knocked me over with an ostrich feather. We’ve been divorced four years and she’s not had a good word to say about me in five. And suddenly she’s in my apartment and crying because she thinks I’m getting ready to marry Shelly. All this time I’m talking to Cynthia, Shelly is admiring herself in the mirror. At least I think that’s what she’s doing, but then all of a sudden, she busts out crying and tells me she can’t marry me because she’s got to marry my best friend, and she’s sorry that I bought the wedding dress for her. So I say, I didn’t buy the dress for her, and Cynthia somehow thinks that means I bought it for her. Then the next thing I know she’s trying on the dress and looking in the mirror and crying some more and saying she and I was meant to be together and our marriage is worth saving. And I’m listening to all this and thinkin’ I’m in some weird sort of parallel universe or something, and I figure the only way I’m going to get out is to get rid of the million-dollar dress.”

  Eliza put her chin in her hands and stared at Chuck over the seat back. “So, you think all of this happened because of the dress?”

  “Hey, I never had this kind of trouble before I laid eyes on that weddin’ gown.”

  Mack shrugged. “I can relate to that.”

  Eliza turned her gaze on him. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Nothing.” His cocky smile charmed her all the way to her too easily impressed toes. “Nothing at all, Mrs. Cortland.”

  “Mrs. Cortland?” Chuck repeated from the back seat.

  “Don’t ask,” Mack warned. “It’ll only reinforce your parallel-universe theory.”

  Chuck shook his head. “I’m tellin’ you there’s something very weird about that dress. And I’ll do anything you want if you’ll just take it and get it out of my life before I do something really stupid.”