“Hurry.”
“Mr. Westbrooke, I’d advise you not to go in there—”
“Too late. I’m here.” He hung up and pocketed the phone.
With a burning determination in his gut, Adam took the stairs two at a time. The second floor landing remained quiet and undisturbed. He left the lights on for security and headed to the third floor.
***
Lacey woke with a start, sitting up and splashing cold water. “What? How?” It blasted back to her and she cringed, wondering just how long she’d been here and asleep.
Leaning over, she pulled the plug and then searched for a nearby towel. It took her a few tries to rise out of the huge tub. She slipped, catching herself just in time.
“Close,” she said, thankful she’d managed to climb out without falling completely on her face or her behind.
Wiping away the last remnants of bubbles and water, she dried off quickly. She hesitated, gazing at the gown in a heap at her feet. “How am I going to get back in that thing and fasten up the back?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Lacey saw the man’s black robe hanging near the shower stall.
She blew out a breath and realized she had little choice but to wear it.
The whisper of cool silk slid over her bare skin and settled around her as she tied the sash tight around her waist. “Smells good.” That cologne. Where did she remember it from?
The memory eluded her.
A noise sounded from the hallway. Lacey froze. She hadn’t closed the bathroom door. Or the bedroom door.
Searching for a way out, she grabbed up her cell phone, but couldn’t find another door.
God, she was going to get caught! How do you tell someone you just wanted to borrow a cup of bubble bath and, oh, yeah, your bath?
Her muddled mind, still foggy from sleep, couldn’t think. Instead, she reacted, charging into the bedroom at the same time a tall, very handsome man entered.
“Who are you?” she demanded, taking the offensive.
“Adam Westbrooke. Who the hell are you?”
That voice! It was him! From the bar and the table and the wedding! That’s where she remembered the cologne from! He’s the owner. And he’s not a geezer?!
The shaking began in her knees and went to her legs. Is it from being caught or from the man himself?
Lacey backed up a step and then another until she was slamming the bathroom door in his face and locking it. The pounding on the other side vibrated and shook her.
“Open up! Security is on their way.”
As she brushed a hand through her hair, the mask fell to the floor. She had no time to retrieve it or her clothes as she crossed the room, figuring there had to be a door leading to the hallway.
It blended into the wall panels, but she found the doorknob and turned it. Cracking it open, she peeked out. “Coast is clear,” she murmured, still hearing him knock on the other door.
She slipped out and padded barefoot across the wooden floor. Stopping long enough to watch him try the door handle to the locked bathroom door, she scooted by the bedroom door and raced toward the stairs at the end of the hallway.
Noises came from below. Footsteps and movements followed.
Lacey groaned inwardly. She could not be on the late-night news. Nor could she put her dear dad in a predicament. His judgeship was up for reelection soon.
Searching her mind, she went back to the clips she’d seen of the Westbrooke house on that featured program, going over the layout of the house.
“That’s it,” she whispered, sneaking down the back hallway. “There’s another way out. A fire escape.”
Well, if anyone needed an escape right about now, it was Lacey!
***
Her feet hurt from the rough pattern on the metal stairs and her arms burned from clutching the railing so tight. Somehow, she’d made it down three flights without being caught.
Now, she scurried along the large hedges and ducked to avoid the spotlight.
The thin robe did little to protect her from scratches and bruises, but, hey, it was better than being buck naked at the moment.
With her heart in her throat, she found an opening to the garden and rushed out, running as if her life depended on it to the museum.
There were only a few lights left on—less cars, too—but if she could make it, she’d snag her street clothes and maybe get Heather or Ash to come get her.
If wishes were real…
They still hadn’t answered her texts.
The pounding of blood in her ears surpassed the sound of her bare feet on the spiky grass as she got to the side of the building. The front entrance was only yards away.
Voices carried. Sirens rent the air, increasing as they drew near the big house.
She stilled in her tracks.
A limo, with its engine running, stood nearby. The back door was open.
Could she make it in time? If she could just get from one marble statue to the next, she could hide behind them, making her way to the car.
“Now or never,” she whispered hoarsely, still unable to catch her breath from the run.
“Mad dash, part two, here I come.” Lacey waited a beat of a second when the three people at the top of the stairs turned to watch the approaching squad cars.
Her muscles burned as she pushed them and her feet stung as they hit the sharp gravel. She didn’t dare look behind her.
Lacey leapt into the back of the limo and landed face first on someone.
“OMG! What in the world?!”
His shriek sounded more like music to her ears. “Rico? How much do you love me, buddy?”
Chapter 5
Adam broke down the door to find the room empty. He grabbed his throbbing shoulder as he entered, cursing when he realized she’d found the other way out.
“Damn,” he muttered. He shook his head as he called the security team. “Female. On the run. Wearing my black bathrobe.” He held on as he heard his guy repeat it to the rest of his team.
“Got it, sir. We’re sweeping the bottom floor now.”
He hung up, shaking his head at the bath bubbles lining his tub. “She took a bath?!” There were millions of dollars’ worth of art and antiques just on his floor alone and she stopped to take a bubble bath? His gaze dropped to the pile on the floor. “What’s under the towel?”
Two steps in, his foot knocked something. It skidded a short way away. His hand shook as he reached out for the intricate gold mask.
His heartbeat hammered in his chest.
“It was her!”
***
Lacey’s teeth chattered.
“Girl, you scared the you-know-what outta me,” Rico said for the umpteenth time as he drew a soft, comfy white blanket around her shoulders. “Shock. It will wear off.”
“Thank…thanks for not having me arrested.”
“Moi? Please! I’d rather hear the juicy details.” He looked at her with wide eyes. “Come on, spill it.”
“Do I have to?”
“You’re at Uncle Rico’s now. Nothing and everything is sacred here.” He chuckled, pressing his fingertips to his lips. “Oops!”
The small, very pink studio apartment suited him perfectly. “If these walls could talk, right?” A real smile inched up the corner of her mouth.
“Drink. Talk.” He nearly shoved the glass at her.
“What is this anyway? Truth serum?”
“Oh, good one. I knew I liked you best of all.” He leaned in, whispering, “Don’t tell the others.”
“Heather and Ash? They like you, too. Meagan—now, that’s a different story.”
“Ditto. No wonder she couldn’t even make it to her wedding night.”
“What? They were supposed to talk.” Dread dropped in her middle.
“The bridezilla mother. Talkus interruptus.” He chuckled at himself.
Maybe she should have stayed on as referee. At least, she wouldn’t have had to die of embarrassment every time she thought of him fin
ding her. Thankfully, she was the only one who knew.
Her belly clutched. “My dress. Panties.” She groaned.
“Do tell! What did happen to your unmentionables? And who was he? Anyone I know?”
Briefly, she edited the story, skirting around the big elephant sitting on her chest.
“Wait, back up a sec. You dropped your drawers, for what again? Not a man?”
“Give me another drink and I’ll confess all.” Her cheeks burned now.
Why had she ever agreed to be a bridesmaid?
Yep, that’s where all the trouble began.
Weddings!
Never again.
How was she going to explain this to Rico and her best friends when she couldn’t even justify what she’d done to herself?
Her heart lurched when she recalled the look in his eyes as the surprise and the confusion was quickly replaced with spellbinding awareness.
The Adam Westbrooke—hot, hunky, and handsome—was now in possession of her favorite lace panties!
“Rico, is that one of those painkillers by any chance?”
***
Adam debated the merit of what he was about to do.
Hell, if he couldn’t get any straight answers on who was in the wedding party, he’d go to extreme measures.
He’d done that in collecting rare objects with great results. What could be any different with this delicate matter?
The woman who greeted him at the Charmings Wedding Department smiled. “Do you have an appointment? With one of the brides?”
“Miss—”
“It’s Mrs. Claire Higgins. I’m the new wedding department receptionist slash girl Friday.”
“Then you can help me.”
“Your bride?” She looked down at her scheduling book.
“I’m not getting married.” Ever! “You see, I’m just trying to return something to a member of the wedding party from the Westbrooke Museum yesterday.”
“How nice of you. If you’ll give it to me, I’ll make sure it’s given back to the proper owner.”
“I’d like to return it myself.” He wanted to see her again. No, needed to.
She frowned.
That did not look good. “She actually has something of mine, too.” He tacked on the last.
Handing him a piece of paper and a pen, she said, “If you just write your name down here, I can forward it to the bride and groom. They, or their representatives, can get in contact with you.”
All right, she was very good. “They’re not available.” He’d tried. No one was returning calls.
“I’ll pass it along.” Her determination was admirable.
In any other situation, he’d acknowledge it. “It’s rather urgent. The wedding coordinator then? Rico something or other. And Evelyn, she’s the events coordinator.”
“Their names are easily accessible. How do I know you were at the wedding?”
“My invitation was lost in the mail?” He smiled, realizing he’d never received an official one since he owned the wedding venue.
“Your name?” She pointed to the paper again. “I’ll personally deliver it to Rico.”
“Can you call him? Now?”
“You are persistent.” She picked up the phone and punched in the numbers.
The voice on the other end made her chuckle.
“It’s Claire. I know you’re in the middle of an appointment; however, there’s a very insistent gentleman here who wants to see you.”
“Moi? A man? Do not let him leave! I’m there, honey!” The dial tone buzzed.
“He’ll be—”
“Right here. I heard him.”
Adam grinned. If he recalled correctly, that appointment would be with none other than the masked lady and the other bridesmaids. Something about rehab and their dresses…
But if she didn’t have her dress—because he did now— would she still attend the meeting? His heart skipped a few beats.
Was she even in the building?
What felt like an hour later, but more like less than fifteen minutes, Rico sashayed to the grand reception area. “Oh, Claire, my darling, I’m here. The man?”
“The only one waiting,” Claire pointed out.
Adam stepped forward among a few curious wannabe brides and families. “Rico.”
The man clasped his hands together. “You want moi?” His smile grew.
“Adam Westbrooke, remember?”
“You handsome devil! That mask did not do you justice.” He reached out and touched his arm. “And how may I help you?” he purred.
“Not like that.”
He pouted.
“It’s about one of the bridesmaids.”
Rico gasped, pressing a finger to his mouth. “I know that very one. Interesting!”
“You know her? Big brown eyes. Caramel-color hair.” He gripped the garment bag. “Is she here? The appointment at ten?”
“Why, Mr. Westbrooke, you were paying attention.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” He sounded desperate.
“A man on a mission. I likee.” Rico crooked a finger. “Come with me. I can take you right to her.”
“Should I call ahead, Rico?” Claire frowned at the two of them.
“And spoil the surprise?” He tsked.
With his throat closing on him, Adam asked, “What’s your game, Rico? Ambush her or me?”
He took Adam’s upper arm. “Nice.” Directing him through the luxurious area where several brides-to-be, family members, and friends spoke with a half-dozen consultants, Rico commented on the newly redone space. “Water everywhere. Thank goodness we saved most of the dresses.”
“Are you dodging my question?”
“Of course I am.” Finally, in the elevator, Rico eyed him. “Not quite an ambush, my friend. Just a facing the firing squad now before more panic sets in. For her sake. She’s been a ball of nerves.”
Dawning sunk in. “I see. If you warn her, then she’ll run.”
“She’s good at that, don’t you think?”
“So she gave you specifics.”
“Uncle Rico and his fabulous lineup of drinks can get the confessions flowing, if you know what I mean.”
For the first time since last night, Adam chuckled. “Remind me never to accept a drink from you.”
“Oh, now I am intrigued. You’re on the top of my next party list.”
The door dinged open. The rooms beyond were more private on this floor and quiet. Hushed whispers were exchanged down aisles and behind closed doors.
“Follow me,” Rico instructed. “She’s trying on wedding dresses.”
Adam halted in his tracks. “She’s what?” Was she engaged? That thought never once entered his mind. Maybe that’s why she hit him with that line about not being interested.
Rico turned and waved a hand. “You’ve gone pale now. That deer in the headlights kinda pale with wide eyes.”
“Wedding? Dresses? Did you say?”
The man reached over and jabbed him on the shoulder. “So you’re one of those. Commitment shy. I see it all the time. Both sides of the aisle.” He chuckled. “Not to worry. She’s one of the models for a charity event—”
Relief surged through Adam. Now Rico’s smile started slow and then grew. “What are you thinking?”
“We make a deal.”
“You take me to see her and that’s it, right?”
“That’s step one. Step two, for me being the magnificently generous wedding coordinator to help you out of your bind, you return the favor.”
This did not sound good at all. “And that is...?”
He giggled and clapped his hands. “It’s perfect really. You, hottie bachelor, for charity, of course, join in King’s crowning event and wear one of our custom tuxes as a runway model at the wedding extravagance.”
Two words stuck out. Bachelor. Runway. “No. Not going to be a piece of meat.”
“It’ll be fun. And with you, billionaire art collector, we could raise a lot
of money for charity. It won’t last more than a couple of hours. One measly night. Less time than a date. Come on, surely you’ve had a date before. What could be so different for this one?”
“I’ll be up there.”
“What if I sweeten the pot a little? Moi gets to decide the couples. I could,” he waved his hand near his head, “oh, I don’t know, pair you up with the bridesmaid you’re so enamored with.”
Adam swallowed hard. “She’d never go for it.”
“I can be persuasive. And she owes me. Big time.”
“On one condition. You get her to agree and I’ll do it.”
Rico nearly shrieked in his ear as he hugged him briefly. “Done. OMG! This is such a marvelous idea!”
No, it had to be the worst idea Adam ever heard of.
Previous to meeting her, he’d never agree to such a display.
What was she doing to him?
Chapter 6
“You want me to try this one next?” Lacey asked her friends, holding up the nearly sheer corset-like top with the slight flare on the bottom.
“It might look better on you than us,” Heather said.
“The practical one.” Lacey groaned.
“It’ll give you more practice on how to get in and out of your dresses faster and with finesse,” Ash added with a grin in her voice.
“See if I tell you my secrets ever again. Friends,” Lacey muttered.
“Come on, you have to admit, it’s funny.”
“You two could have picked up when I called or texted me back.” They wouldn’t look at her. “What? Did I miss something?”
Heather shrugged, her cheeks turning pink. “Nothing much.”
Ash didn’t comment, but her rigid shoulders did tell their own story.
“Oh my gosh! Here I’ve been blabbering on about my own disgraceful night when I didn’t even ask you two what happened with yours.” That’s why they hadn’t responded back to her! “Heather? You were going to talk to Drake the Rake. How’d that go?” Lacey tried to shove aside the dress, but her friends handed it right back to her.
“To be determined. That’s all I’m going to say at the moment.” She flicked a glance at her watch. “In fact, I need to hurry this up. Business.”
very charming wedding 01 - bachelor and the bride Page 3
