But Kyle shook his head. Hovering in the doorway to the bathroom, he announced, "I can't go back there. My new mother-in-law is up in the honeymoon suite cataloguing gifts or something."
"So we'll go down to the restaurant, have a cup of coffee while you spill your tale of woe."
"Nope." Kyle's expression grew even more bleak. "That's where I spent most of last night, sleeping on a banquette. I only left when Steffi and her father and about fifty of their friends rolled in for breakfast this morning. I didn't want to be where they were."
This sounded like one hell of a mess. Ian sighed as he splashed water on his face. "You slept on a bench in the restaurant? On your wedding night?"
Kyle wheeled away, swore, and then turned back.
"You were right," he confessed. "Marrying Steffi was the biggest mistake of my life."
"I didn't think she was right for you, but I didn't think it would blow up on you this fast." Toweling off and reaching for the toothpaste, he tried, "But, hey, a lot of people fight. It doesn't mean that—"
"Yes, it does. Listen to this. She refused to sleep with me last night." Kyle shook his head. "Before we got engaged, she wanted to boogie like a bunny. Totally insatiable."
"Okay, well, keep it down, okay?" Halting his brushing, he inclined a thumb in the direction of the bed, suddenly aware this was something Lucie would not care to hear.
"Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Anyway, after we got engaged, she decided we should wait, kind of have a moratorium, make the wedding night special."
"Kind of dopey, but sounds like a woman to me." Did he hear a groan come from behind the bed curtains?
"Except that there was no wedding night." His brother's expression was as dark as Ian had ever seen it. "She spent the whole night opening the gifts and screaming about how much she hated everything. Screaming, at the top of her lungs, about what cheapskates people were and how they owed better presents since she spent so much on the wedding—which is a lie. Our dad threw in the Inn and all the booze and her dad owns a damn catering company. This wedding was practically free. So, anyway, I slammed out of there at like four a.m. and she was still going strong."
Ian didn't know what to say. He rinsed his mouth, finally mumbling, "Okay, that's pretty bad."
"Pretty bad? The woman is a freaking loony tune! She's selfish, she's mean, she's manipulative, she's totally immature." Kyle began to pace, his voice rising. "I didn't even tell you the worst part. You know how I said she hated all the wedding presents? Ian, she threw three toasters and a waffle iron off the balcony into the parking lot! She could've killed someone." He set his jaw in a hard line. "I only have one choice. I want a divorce."
Now there was a definite yelp from the bed. "Pssst!" he heard. Ian abandoned his toothbrush and strode to the curtains. Parting them just enough to stick his head through, he whispered, "What do you want?"
Lucie was on her hands and knees, all wrapped in the bedspread like a Christmas package. Her soft, full breasts pressed against the top fold of the brocaded fabric, and she had cleavage to spare. Damn. Bent over like that, her position reminded him of the time they were on the floor, naked and slippery… He closed his eyes.
"What do you think I want? He's divorcing my sister," she hissed back. "And why are your eyes closed?"
"Half sister." He forced open his eyes, but kept them focused on her face, nowhere else. "I don't see why you care. I thought you didn't like her."
"I don't! But still."
"Lucie, we have to talk about this later. Let me get rid of Kyle—"
"Tell him not to dump her now. The day after the wedding, it will make her furious and she will make his life hell. Tell him," she persisted. She scooted closer, twisting the bedspread around with her, keeping everything covered well enough that he could relax … for now. "I know her better than he does. Tell him he'll have to plan carefully and be very, very smart, or Steffi and my dad will take him for every dime he's got."
He noticed she didn't say that it was a rotten thing to do, to divorce her half sister about twelve hours into the marriage. No, just that Kyle needed to exercise extreme caution. That part about "every dime he's got" made an impression on Ian, all right, since he and his brother were partners in a venture that was just about to pay off big-time.
If Steffi messed up their deal…
"Who's in there and what is she saying?" Kyle demanded, yanking back the drape. "But that's … Steffi's sister? You let me tell you all this with a spy in the bed? My own brother, sleeping with the enemy?"
"I am not the enemy," Lucie protested.
Ian noticed she didn't contradict the "sleeping with" part. How could she? Except for the fact that neither of them had actually slept.
As she scrambled off the edge of the beds Ian reached over and awkwardly tucked in an errant flap of her makeshift cloak. He didn't want Kyle getting any ideas.
Intent on her mission to enlighten Kyle, Lucie didn't seem to notice. "In fact," she declared, "I may be the only person who can help you. You can't just divorce Steffi. She'll have a fit."
"I don't much care," Kyle retorted.
"You'd better care," the other two said in unison. Lucie added, "Steffi is vindictive and spoiled. And my father is deathly afraid of public embarrassment. It will become a matter of pride to both of them. You file for divorce and they will tie you and your assets up in so many knots you may never get out."
"Listen to her, Kyle," Ian interjected. "She's talking money. And your money and my money are pretty much one and the same thing."
"Yeah, but…" Kyle broke off, clearly confused. "Maybe I could annul the marriage instead."
"No, that won't be any better." Now it was Lucie's turn to pace, her bedspread whipping around her. "If only we could maneuver things so that Steffi dumped you…"
"Okay." Looking a bit more hopeful, Kyle inquired, "But how?"
"I don't know. Sheesh." Lucie dissolved into a heap of linen on the floor. "I feel so disloyal helping you at all, though Lord knows Steffi is reaping what she's sown for a long time. But I don't know how to pull this off. I mean, you're everything she ever wanted. Everything my dad wanted for her. All she does is brag about what a catch she's got. Money, looks, position. To her, you're like the best Ken doll ever, and you come with all kinds of good accessories, even Barbie's Dream Family. Steffi's not going to give that up without a fight."
"Barbie's what?" Kyle looked mystified. "Do you know what she's talking about?"
Ian shook his head.
"How the heck did the two of you get together, anyhow?" Kyle asked, befuddled. "I didn't even know you knew each other."
"Barely," they both said quickly.
Lucie lifted her chin. "It was an accident. We've got it all sorted out now, though. No harm, no foul. We're going to pretend it never happened, right, Ian?"
Silence hung over them for a few seconds. So she wanted to pretend it never happened. Sure, that was what he wanted, too. So why did he feel like she'd just kicked him where it counted?
"Okay, so back to Steffi dumping me…"
But Ian was at the end of his rope. His head still hurt, he needed coffee badly, and he hadn't had a chance to make things right with Lucie. Kyle would have to go.
Physically pushing his brother to the other side of the room and the exit, he announced, "Look, little brother, I appreciate that you are in a major jam. And I promise that, later, I will do my best to help you out. But right now, I have some issues of my own to work through."
Kyle dug in his heels. "What am I supposed to do? If I can't divorce her now, what do I do about the honeymoon? We're supposed to leave for Hawaii in a few hours."
"So go," Ian said sensibly. "Have a nice trip."
"I don't want to be alone with her for five minutes, let alone nine hours on a plane."
"Come on, you just married her. You had to anticipate spending some time with her," Ian argued.
"I think Kyle is right. He shouldn't go." Lucie stood there, her hands on her hips. "You're suppose
d to be making her sorry she married you. Going on the honeymoon is only going to make you sorry. Trust me on this. She'll spend all your money, she'll shop, she'll have a great time. Meanwhile, you'll be contemplating throwing yourself off a cliff."
"So what, then?" Kyle asked.
"So … think of something." She seemed to be losing her patience, and Ian didn't blame her. Besides, as he recalled last night with a twinge of pain, patience wasn't Lucie's strong suit. "Think up some reason you can't fly. You know, an illness or something."
"You could break both legs," Ian suggested.
"Wouldn't one be enough?"
"No," his brother retorted. "I've flown with people with one broken leg. But two…"
"Okay, two."
"Two broken legs? Are you guys nuts? All he needs is a sinus infection!" Lucie let out a noise that was roughly in the neighborhood of "arrrghhh" and then she muttered, "Men."
"Okay, a fake sinus infection it is," Kyle put in. "So what do I do? Sniffle?"
"Sniffle and have a headache," Lucie told him. "A big headache."
"Sounds good." Ian clapped his brother on the shoulder, attempting to shepherd him through the door. But when he opened it, he heard voices and animated chatter. It sounded as if a large crowd had congregated out there.
He swung the door open the rest of the way, edging out far enough to see what the ruckus was. What the…? There were about a hundred people milling up and down the stairs outside, spilling down into the Inn's front ball. Unfortunately, they also had a full view of his door there, just off the landing where the double staircases converged.
He turned back. "What are all those people doing waiting around, staring at my door?"
"I don't know," Kyle said with a shrug. "Steffi's going to come down the stairs so everybody can clap or something. I'm supposed to stand at the bottom and wait for her. And then they all throw rice and we take off in our limo."
"Ian?" his mother's voice called from somewhere on the staircase. "Is Kyle with you?"
Ian stepped out to the top of the big double staircase, where he felt like he was holding court. "Mom, Kyle's not feeling well. But he'll be right out to tell you himself." Over his shoulder, he remarked, "Time to be a man, Kyle. Remember, sniffles and headache."
"Yeah, yeah." But he did it, trudging down the stairs like he was going to his execution.
"Kyle, you look terrible!" about five people chorused. That ought to make the sinus infection ruse go over better.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Ian went back to room 203, removed the key, slid into his room, and securely closed the door behind him with a reassuring snap.
"Okay," he said, folding his arms over his T-shirt.
"Now we decide what to do about you and me."
"What's to decide?" Lucie was busy buttoning on his shirt from last night over her underwear. If he had to guess, he would say she was taking the tactic that if she ignored it, it would go away. "Oh, your shirt had buttons so I borrowed it. I hope you don't mind. It's not great, but it covers the important bits, and it should get me down to my car. It's a Jeep—you know, the kind with the canvas windows?—so I should be able to slash my way in with a pocketknife. You don't have one, do you? No biggie. Do you happen to know how to hot-wire a car? I think I know, in theory, but I could use some help."
He laughed out loud at how matter-of-fact she made it sound. "Do you know how many people are standing outside our door? And you think you're going to waltz through all of them, barefoot, wearing a man's shirt and no bottoms, and calmly break into your car and then hot-wire it?"
She threw up her hands. "I apparently lost my granny boots at some point before I got here last night, and my bridesmaid outfit doesn't have any fasteners. What else am I supposed to do?"
"Well, for one thing, I can go try to find Feather and your keys, and then get your suitcase. Or I can borrow some clothes from my mother or my sister. It's the least I can do." He knew his smile was smug, but she was being so silly. "It's a lot smarter than trying to run the gauntlet."
As he spoke, Lucie looked madder and madder, practically wringing her hands with dismay. "Look." Her lips were all tight and she wouldn't meet his eyes. "It should be perfectly obvious to both of us by now that this was just some big, unexpected joke of fate and we are not at all anything to each other. Agreed?"
He nodded reluctantly.
"Right. So you don't have to be nice to me or gallant or any of that kind of nonsense." She started to make choppy, flustered gestures with her hands, as her words tumbled over each other, faster and faster. "In case you haven't noticed, I am incredibly embarrassed and upset and … I don't know what! I don't even know what happened, and I don't want to know, although I'm scared to death I'm going to remember. But in the meantime, before I do remember and feel the need to slash my wrists, the sooner I'm out of here and we get on our way to never seeing each other again as long as we live, the better."
She let out a big breath. He was still stunned from the torrent she'd just let loose, and he didn't even open his mouth. Too late now. She had started again.
"And if you say, 'It's the least I can do' to me one more time, I swear I will strangle you with my bare hands!"
"But you don't have to be embarrassed. I'm not." He protested, blocking her way as she attempted to circle around him.
"Of course you're not. You sleep around all the time. I don't!" she retorted.
"I'm actually insulted you think that."
She reached for the doorknob. "All I meant is that you're probably more used to this kind of awkward morning-after stuff than I am."
"Not like this," he grumbled under his breath. "Lucie, please, just give me a chance—"
"To what? Remind me of what a very bizarre and stupid thing I did?" She shook her head, prying his hand off the door. "I have to go, Ian. I'm sorry I screwed up your fling with Feather but I have a feeling she'll be available again if you really want to hook up with her."
He stepped to the side, allowing her enough room to leave if she was determined to go. Given the crowd outside and her bedraggled outfit, she was almost certainly going to regret running out there, but he could hardly physically stop her. "I meant to thank you for hijacking my key from Feather, even if it was an accident. I think I definitely got the better part of that exchange and I'd much rather be sharing this awkward morning with you than her."
"There you go," she murmured, "being gallant again." This time she looked him in the eye. "I really hate that."
* * *
Chapter 4
«^»
Lucie took a deep breath, opened the door, and took about a step and a half into the real world. She stopped in her tracks.
"Oh, no," she whispered. "This is terrible."
Self-conscious, she smoothed her hair away from her face. Not that it was going to help anything.
Ian had warned her that there were all kinds of people outside his room. But not this many. Not all dressed up and fresh faced and curious, staring up at the top of the stairs, right where she was rooted to the carpet, wearing a man's rumpled shirt and no shoes. They had expectation on their faces and little bundles of rice in their hands.
And Steffi. No, please no. Not Steffi, too.
But there she was, wearing a pretty lavender suit and a corsage, with her mother and their mutual father right behind her. All three of them were poised on the landing, only a few yards from Lucie and the door to room 203.
They turned, all three of them. They saw her. Their faces reflected first shock and then outrage. Steffi reacted first. And Lucie would've bet you could hear the scream emanating from her sister's throat from down in the front hall all the way up to the top turret on the Highland Inn. Just in case there was one man, woman or child not staring at Lucie's disgrace.
"Do you see that?" Steffi shrieked. "Lucie, sneaking out of some man's room wearing nothing but his shirt. Just look at her!"
There were shushing sounds, but it was too late. The damage was done.
&nb
sp; "What are you doing?" Steffi cried, stalking closer and raking Lucie with her furious glare. "Look at you, barely managing to crawl out of some stranger's bed on the morning after my wedding. My wedding!" As Donald Webster moved behind her to support her, she turned into his shoulder, sobbing, "Oh, Daddy, what else can happen? First it rained and then the hem of my dress got wet and then someone sneezed during the ceremony and some loser gave my maid of honor a black eye—"
"A black eye? Really?" Huh. She didn't think she'd hit Feather that hard.
But Steffi was on a roll and not brooking interruptions. "And then the presents were cheap and tacky and Kyle got a cold or something and now this. My entire wedding is ruined. Oh, Daddy, how could she?"
"I don't know, sweetie," he said gruffly, patting her ineffectually. His face was red and puffed up with anger, but at least he kept his voice down when he demanded, "Lucie, what do you have to say for yourself?"
"Not a heck of a lot," she murmured. "I'm really sorry that this happened, but—"
"She's trying to humiliate me in front of my new in-laws, Daddy."
"No, she isn't." It was Ian, sounding much sterner than she'd ever heard him as he stepped out behind her, his duffel bag looped over one shoulder. She tried to stop him, but he was already saying, "Lucie was with me."
"What?" If Steffi's previous shriek had been high on the decibel scale, this one was off the charts.
Lucie winced. The spoiled princess finding out her half sister had picked up a man at her wedding was one thing. In fact, Steffi might've actually enjoyed that part, what with all the drama and the chance to be right in the center of a soap opera and suck up sympathy.
But now that Steffi knew Lucie had not just picked up any man, but had slept with a carbon copy of her groom…? Oooh, this was going to get ugly. Steffi never had liked sharing her toys. And Lucie felt very sure that was how her half sister viewed the whole charmed Mackintosh family—as if she got to slap "property of Steffi" stickers on their hands and feet, just like every doll she'd ever owned.
JUST A LITTLE FLING Page 5
