Double Exposure

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  But she wanted to make sure she understood his meaning. “So you’d rather I didn’t mention anything of what you’ve been through to the others in the wedding party?”

  He shrugged. “I just don’t see the point. This weekend is supposed to be about Stuart and Kim, not me.”

  The sheer nobility of that sentiment made her weak in the knees. Most men would welcome an audience so they could revel in the glory of their accomplishments, but this particular man didn’t want his spectacular story to overshadow the wedding.

  Then Kate realized something else. He’d trusted her with the tale, and now they shared a secret. She would be the only one at the wedding who would know that he was a bonafide hero. That was pretty darned cool.

  “Okay,” she said. “And may I say that’s a wonderful attitude.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t see it as anything spe—”

  “It is,” she said softly. “Now why don’t you go over and relax on that sofa by the window and let me check you in?”

  “Listen, I’m really fine. I can check myself in.”

  She put a hand on his arm, and her gold bangles jingled. “Yes, you could, but everything’s all arranged, anyway, and it would be my pleasure.” She looked into his eyes. “I promise not to bring up your ordeal again if you’ll agree to let me pamper you a little.”

  His blue eyes warmed again as they had back in the car when he’d awakened. “A man would be a fool to turn down an offer like that.”

  HUGH DID AS HE WAS told and eased down upon a red and white patterned sofa just as a trim woman in a print blouse and khaki skirt came into the room and greeted them. Hugh stood up again.

  “We’re with the Cooper-Thorpe wedding party,” Kate said. “I believe you have a room available for Mr. Armstrong.”

  “Certainly.” The woman took her place behind an antique desk.

  Kate glanced over at Hugh. “Just relax,” she said, waving him back to the sofa. “I’ll handle it.”

  Harry must have gotten his phone message, Hugh thought. Otherwise no one would have known to reserve him a room here. Oh, yeah, it was becoming very obvious that old Harry was trying to instigate a little romance between his brother and the maid of honor. The plan was almost too obvious, considering that Kate was totally Hugh’s type.

  Sitting down again, he used the time to study Kate. She wasn’t very tall, only about five-five, but those snug capri-length jeans and high-heeled mules made her look taller. He had no idea how women maneuvered in those things or even how they kept them on. It was one of the sweet mysteries of life. However they managed to navigate in shoes with no back, some women had a flair for it, and Kate was one of those who could turn the whole exercise into poetry.

  A multipaned window behind him looked out on the bustling harbor. He gave it a quick glance and hoped his room would have a different view. Boats and water didn’t hold much appeal for him today, although he liked the idea of staying in this historic inn. Walking from the parking lot he’d smelled the saltwater tang of the bay and the aroma of fish being cooked in the area’s restaurants. But in here, the dominant scent was of bread baking, which was more comforting to his battered body.

  Still, he was happy to be here, harbor view and all. Visiting New England always reminded him of working on The Patriot, which brought good memories. He’d enjoyed getting to know Mel. And there had been a sexy member of the camera crew, Charise. He’d enjoyed getting to know her, too.

  But Kate made him forget all about Charise, or any other woman he’d been with in recent memory. As he pretended to lounge casually on the wing-backed sofa, his thoughts were anything but casual. Kate had offered to pamper him. He wondered if that meant what he’d love it to mean.

  In L.A. he’d know exactly what to expect after a woman made such an offer, especially when she had that special look in her eyes that he’d seen in Kate’s. From the fit of her jeans to the daring neckline of her T-shirt, she radiated sexual confidence. Except for her height, she had the figure to be a runway model. Thank God that no longer described a woman with a flat-chested, boyish shape. He’d been delighted to see that trend disappear. Kate’s breasts were perfect for the new, more womanly look.

  She’d taken off her purse, one of those sling types that looked big enough to carry a small child, and propped it beside her on the floor. As she leaned over to sign the guest book, her cropped T-shirt rode up to reveal a strip of ivory skin. Hugh gazed at that tempting spot, focusing on the slight depression formed by the small of her back.

  He had an almost uncontrollable urge to go over and rest his hand against her exposed skin. The heel of his hand would fit into that warm niche, while his fingers would curve around her waist. She would be soft to the touch, humming with energy.

  He imagined her leaning into the pressure of his hand and turning her head to smile at him. His groin tightened. He’d have to control those thoughts, though, on the chance that he was misreading the signals she was giving him. Still, he couldn’t believe that she looked at every guy the way she’d looked at him back there in the car.

  There was the slight possibility that the atmosphere of the wedding had put her in a romantic mood. But if Harry had sent Kate on purpose, he would also have briefed her, letting her know that Hugh wasn’t interested in anything serious.

  Maybe Kate wasn’t, either. Hugh had discovered that quite a few women in their twenties were focused on their careers and had no intention of tying themselves to a husband or even a steady boyfriend. He wouldn’t be at all surprised to find that Kate felt that way, too.

  From the way she’d talked about her photography, he guessed that she was dissatisfied with the status quo and wanted a change, even if she wasn’t quite ready to admit that. Women in the midst of a career change weren’t usually eager to settle down to a steady relationship. If she fit in that category, they were a perfect match for the weekend.

  She finished signing the guest book and murmured something to the other woman that Hugh couldn’t hear. The woman glanced over at him, so he could be fairly sure the conversation concerned him. Curious, he strained to hear what was being said, but noise filtering in from the busy street made it impossible.

  The woman made a phone call, then another. Finally she shrugged and looked up at Kate with an air of regret. Whatever Kate had been trying to cook up, it hadn’t worked.

  There was more hushed conversation, and then Kate turned and came toward him, a key folder in one hand. “We tried to arrange for an in-room massage for you,” she said. “But both recommended people were booked. If we were in Providence I’d have more of a selection, but I hate to take potluck.”

  He stood. “No problem. But it was a nice idea.” A very nice idea. He was damned stiff, and a massage would have helped him be ready for…anything.

  “I can upgrade you to a suite with a whirlpool,” she said. “If you want it, that is. The only problem is that it’s a little guest cottage out back instead of in the main building here, so there’s no view of the harbor. No view at all, actually.”

  “To be honest, I didn’t want to look at water and sailboats, anyway.” And a whirlpool sounded like heaven to him. He wondered how big the whirlpool was, and if Kate…no, he was getting ahead of himself.

  She gave him a secret smile and held out the key folder. “I had a feeling that would be fine with you, under the circumstances, so I went ahead and reserved it.”

  He took the key folder, but then he had a sudden thought. “I wouldn’t be taking this away from Kim and Stuart, would I? I mean, this sounds like it could be the honeymoon cottage.”

  Kate laughed. “Kim and Stuart aren’t about to stay here for their wedding night, if that’s what you’re saying. They love us all dearly, but they want to be far away from here that night. Even I don’t know where they’ll be staying, but I can guarantee it won’t be at the Townsend House.”

  “Okay, then I’d love to have it.”

  “Good.” Kate turned back to the woman at the desk. “We’re a
ll set.”

  The woman stood. “Would you like help with your luggage?”

  “No, thanks.” Hugh hoisted the garment bag to his shoulder and grabbed Kate’s suitcase. “Just point me in the right direction.”

  “I know how to get there,” Kate said. “I’ll show you.”

  That was exactly what he’d been hoping for.

  KATE HAD TO RELY ON HER own judgment in this situation, but she felt certain that Stuart would want his best man to be comfortable, especially after what Harry had been through. And if Stuart didn’t want to pay extra for the cottage, then she’d cover the cost. It wasn’t so much. Well, okay, it was twice as much as a regular room, but the man needed some amenities.

  Fortunately, this cozy hideaway had plenty. With a sense of anticipation she led him down the hall and through the cheerful breakfast room to a back door that opened onto the garden. The new owners had told Kim and Kate that they would have bought the property for the rose bushes alone. Although the inn had fallen into disrepair, the former occupants had been avid gardeners, and the dozens of blooming roses in shades of red, pink and peach testified to their skill.

  Roses lined the flagstone walk and tumbled from trellises spaced around the garden. Water splashed in several stone fountains tucked in among the flowers. Kim and Stuart hadn’t had time for engagement pictures, but last week Kate had talked them into letting her do some portraits here, and she was giving them the best of the lot, framed, as one of her wedding presents. The picture was so beautiful it brought tears to her eyes.

  “Romantic.”

  She glanced over at Harry, and her tummy gave a little skitter of sensuality. “Yes, it is.”

  On the far side of the garden stood the cottage, which at one time had been a stable. But it bore no resemblance to one now. It had been painted white with blue trim to match the inn, and the effect was attractive, but the exterior gave no hint of the luxury within. Kate wanted to see the look on Harry’s face when he opened the door.

  He put the key in the lock and turned the brass knob, pushing the glossy black door open. As he stepped inside, he drew in a breath. “Ohmigod. This must cost a small fortune.”

  She smiled, pleased with his reaction. “Don’t worry about it. They gave us a grand opening discount.”

  “Even so. I have to chip in for something like this.”

  Kate had to admit the place was spectacular. Set against a backdrop of mint-green walls, dark walnut furniture in the sitting area was upholstered in white brocade. Intricately patterned Oriental carpets rested on gleaming hardwood floors, and roses in delicate vases perched everywhere, perfuming the air with a heady fragrance.

  Through a wide doorway stood a massive canopy bed dressed in the same white brocade as the furniture in the sitting room. And of course there were more roses. It was a perfect honeymoon cottage, Kate thought as she looked around. Or a lover’s retreat….

  “Beautiful.” He turned full circle, his garment bag still over his shoulder, her suitcase in his other hand. Then he glanced at Kate. “Thank you.” He hesitated. “Well, I’ve taken up a lot of your time. I’m sure you have things you need to do.”

  Maybe he was subtly trying to dismiss her. She shouldn’t make assumptions, even though she thought there was an attraction between them. “And you’re probably ready for a nap.”

  “No, not really.” He set down both suitcases and laid his jacket over a chair. “Maybe some time in the whirlpool, though.”

  “Then I should be going.” She didn’t want to leave, but she couldn’t very well hang around while he took a long soak.

  “So you do have things to take care of.” His gaze was clearly regretful.

  “Nothing earth-shattering, but I thought—”

  “For all I know some guy’s tapping his foot, wondering when you’re going to show up for dinner.”

  Her pulse rate moved up a notch. He wanted to know if she had a boyfriend. “No,” she said carefully. “Nobody’s waiting for me.” She looked into his eyes. “But maybe you need to call someone to let her know you arrived safely?”

  He held her gaze as he shook his head.

  “Oh.” Her pulse raced at the unspoken messages zinging back and forth.

  “I can hold off on the whirlpool, if you’re free for dinner.”

  “I’m free for dinner, but I think you need to do something for those stiff muscles.”

  He shrugged. “I will, eventually.” Then he gestured toward the suitcases. “Let me put these away.”

  “Okay.” She waited in the sitting room while he carried both suitcases into the bedroom. Wow. This was turning into a fantasy event.

  After he’d disappeared from view, a low whistle of appreciation filtered back to her. “Some whirlpool.”

  She remembered it well. Set into a bay window, the marble tub was big enough for at least two people. By day the windows looked out on more rose bushes. By night, translucent shades provided complete privacy.

  “And I look like a street person,” he added.

  “You look fine,” she called to him. More than fine. Awesome. Hot.

  “I need a shave.” He came back out, rolling his shoulders. “Have you seen that whirlpool?”

  She nodded. “Kim and I had the full tour when we booked the rooms for the wedding party.” Watching him work the kinks from his shoulders made her long to go over and massage those knots out for him. That’s what he really needed. A whirlpool wouldn’t necessarily help his neck and shoulders.

  “Well, I can tell you one thing. Before I take you out to dinner, I’m going to shave and clean up a little.”

  “You don’t have to go to all that trouble. We can just—”

  “Nope, I’ll feel a lot better if I do. Give me five minutes.”

  “That’s silly.” The last thing she wanted to do was create more complications for him. “Listen, there’s a submarine sandwich place a block away. I’ll go pick up some food and bring it back. That way you can stay and relax.”

  “Look, I’m really fine. A quick shave and shower and I’ll be good to go.”

  “You don’t like subs?”

  “I love them.”

  “Then it’s settled.” She started for the door. This evening was becoming more exciting by the minute. Now they’d be able to have their meal in total privacy. “What kind of sandwich do you want?”

  “I eat anything. Surprise me.”

  She gave him a quick grin. “That’s what I like, a man with a sense of adventure.”

  He smiled back. “Then I’m your guy.”

  3

  KATE DECIDED THAT WALKING to the sub shop would be faster than trying to maneuver her car through the dense traffic, not to mention the challenge of finding a parking spot once she got there. She set out at a brisk pace, enjoying the salty air and the cry of the seagulls overhead. Walking also gave her a chance to consider the idea that had lodged in her brain and wouldn’t leave.

  Harry needed a massage. She had a basic knowledge of massage techniques. They’d have to work with the bed instead of using a massage table, but she’d had a little practice at that. She was no professional, but she was better than nothing. Besides, she’d had a massage nearly every week for the past five years, and then there was the crash course she and her ex-boyfriend Jonathan had taken last summer.

  Although Jonathan hadn’t thrived in that class, she’d had a great time. Come to think of it, his lack of interest in the massage class had marked the beginning of the end, although she’d never thought Jonathan was the answer to her prayers in the first place.

  But Harry…Harry had definite possibilities. She had only one quibble. A stupid and superficial quibble it was, too, and she was a little ashamed of herself. She wished he had a different name. A guy named Harry would be the kind who remembered to take out the garbage and put air in the tires, a nice enough fellow, but not the sort she’d associate with grand passion and undying love.

  Yet everything else about this man seemed totally perfect. Mayb
e she’d avoid using his name for the time being, and if everything worked out between them she’d create her own special name for him later on. Maybe he had a great middle name she could convince him to use.

  After reaching the sub shop, she had to stand in line for a few minutes before placing her order for two eight-inchers, one hot pastrami and one Italian meatball, and a couple of large Cokes. The twenty-minute wait for the order gave her enough time to run back to the combination souvenir shop and drugstore that she’d noticed on the way here. If she couldn’t find what she needed there, she’d take it as a sign that she was on the wrong track with this massage plan.

  Inside the store, she stood and surveyed the display of T-shirts, miniature lighthouses and shell jewelry. The place was crowded, like everywhere else in Newport on this June evening. She glanced at her watch and waited with more than a little impatience for browsers to move out of the way so she could continue her search. She’d never meandered in her life, and it made her crazy when confronted with such a random waste of time.

  Just when she was about to give up, the woman blocking a particular glass shelving unit walked to the far side of the shop. Sure enough, the top shelf held a set of three scented oils. Kate only needed the bottle of almond, but she didn’t mind paying for the other two.

  As she took the shrink-wrapped basket containing the oils to the front of the store and handed them to the woman standing at the register, she glanced behind the counter and noticed a tube of antiseptic cream. That would be good for the cut on Harry’s forehead. Kate asked the clerk to add that to her purchase.

  Then another item on the rack behind the counter caught Kate’s eye. She didn’t usually keep such an item with her, yet, under the circumstances, it might become essential. Still, buying it in advance seemed…weird. Of course, she considered herself a sexually liberated woman, so it shouldn’t seem weird. Yet she’d never bought this particular item before.