very charming wedding 02 - boss and the bride

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very charming wedding 02 - boss and the bride Page 6

by leclair, laurie


  “Wow, thanks a lot for that vote of confidence.” Heather’s voice wobbled.

  Why don’t you tell her how you really feel, guys? His throat closed up at her obvious pain. “You’re not going anywhere.” His words came out fierce and abrupt.

  “Oh, hell, is that what this is all about? She won’t sign, so you get her to marry you. Come on, Drake. Seriously?” Eric asked.

  Drake swallowed hard; it had entered his mind. Not the marriage part before, but a big incentive for her to remain on board had swirled around. Just what, he hadn’t ever figured out. Now, she can keep the rock they’d ordered for her.

  He stayed silent, wondering if allowing them to think that would help.

  “I get it. I’m good at what I do. I know that. But no one is irreplaceable, right?” Heather asked, nudging them to confess.

  “To me you are,” Drake said without thinking, only feeling, lurching to his feet and facing her. “I’m not going to lose you, Heather.” Somewhere from Saturday night and his throwaway suggestion of a pseudo engagement to today, days later and under scrutiny, Drake shifted from the ridiculous to the absurd. He longed for Heather Talbert in every way. Don’t get carried away with your own playacting, Diamond.

  “Have you lost your mind, boss?” Sonia’s question blasted through the room. The others joined in, asking the same thing.

  He stared at Heather, capturing her light-green eyes behind the shield of her glasses. But she couldn’t disguise the same questions swimming there.

  Longing caused an ache to sweep through him. How did this happen? Why did this happen? No answers came.

  “Yes, I believe I have lost my mind,” he whispered. Why not, right? Everyone thought they were getting hitched; they were facing the firing squad already, so why not go for it? He leaned in, brushing his lips across hers in a light, lingering caress.

  Sparks burst.

  Heather gasped.

  Munity rang out. Once again.

  ***

  “Miss T., this you?” a young male voice asked on the other end of the line. In the background, she heard muted voices coming and going.

  “This is Heather,” she admitted, reluctantly. Holding her office phone away from her ear, she stared at it for a second and then brought it back again. No caller ID had come up. “Do I know you?”

  Glancing up at a noise, she saw Sonia slowly pass by her open office door, capturing her gaze, with a shake of her head and drawing a sideway hand across her neck, like Heather was a dead duck. She gulped hard. Sonia had never minced words or gestures. And I used to like her, too. So much for old times.

  She’d snuck away from the chaos of the disgruntled Diamond Enterprises’s employees yesterday afternoon to get some peace and quiet and dodged them all through today, thus far. Work centered her. Plus, she had that detailed proposal to whip up for Grant Shipley’s resort.

  Snort! She’d better score this one or all this drama would be for nada.

  His laugh, high-pitched and short, barked out, grabbing her full attention. “It’s me, Howie. You know, Mr. D.’s center on his Wednesday night basketball team?”

  “Oh, Howie Howie,” she murmured, picturing the at-risk boy who never stopped dribbling, even when he didn’t have a ball in his hands. “Always practicing.”

  “Yep, that’s me. So, you got to convince him to show up for Friday’s big game to cheer us on to the finals.”

  “Why me? And shouldn’t he already know about this humongous event?” she teased him, knowing every game for him was the big one.

  “Now I know why he likes you so much. You’re funny.”

  “He likes me?” Why did she sound like a teenage girl just then? And why did her heart bolt to her throat like that?

  “Come on. Seriously, you don’t know the way he stares at you when you come around? Forget that, all right? The other coaches aren’t like Mr. D. He’s the best!”

  The way he stares at me? Well, all she could recall is how he made her quiver and quake. And, that was before one of his mind-blowing kisses.

  “Hey, you still there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. Why not ask him yourself?” She tapped her pencil on a sticky note, making little random dots and a mess of her neat reminder to herself. There was a dozen more scattered about her once tidy desk. Papers teetered on the edge and she scooped them up from a likely fall and dropped them on top of another pile, making an impressive heap. You’re becoming a disaster, Talbert! What happened to that ultra-organized girl you were before that mighty kiss?

  “I did ask him. But he’s got some charity thing to do ’cause he says he owes you or something.”

  The rehearsal! “He owes me?”

  “Some kind of deal gone bad, I guess. You should know. It’s all over Facebook.”

  Their fake, forced engagement! Is that what he meant when he said he owed her?

  “Let him off the hook, okay? For the team.”

  The team? Like yours or the Diamond Enterprises one?

  ***

  “D.W. Shipley’s here?” Drake nearly choked on the name his assistant gave him over the intercom. Looking up, he smiled tightly and nodded his head. That’s what I get for having glass walls. “Ah, Grant’s here, too. Thanks, Sonia. Send them in.” He waved for them to join him as he dropped the phone and rose to his feet.

  The older man, even more intimidating today than he had looked the night in the back of the limo, if that were even possible, shot him a cold, hard look. “I’m checking on my investment, Diamond.”

  His adult son, dark hair flopping over his forehead, grinned as he shook Drake’s hand. “Don’t mind him.” He nodded to his father, settling in the chair already. “Like a bulldog today.”

  Today? Drake glanced at the stern, blond man, raising his eyebrows. “D.W., to what do we owe the pleasure?”

  With a scowl on his roundish face, he steepled his fingers and remained silent.

  “The resort. Dad here decided to partner with me and he’s loaning me the rest of the dough to change the island over from private to commercial.”

  Partners? The information hit Drake square in the gut, like he’d been sucker-punched. He was certain D.W. would appreciate that since his goons hadn’t gotten their hands on him the other night. “Really now.” Did someone just turn up the heat? And the stakes?

  Grant dropped down in the other chair and clapped a hand on his dad’s arm. “He’s overprotective at times.”

  “Where’s Heather?” D.W. asked, his words dropping into the air like ice pellets. “She does really work for you, doesn’t she?”

  “Boss, I called. She’s coming,” Sonia drawled, wheeling in a tray of refreshments. She looked D.W. up and down and dead-panned, “For you, I suggest water. Plenty of water.” Twisting off the cap of expensive bottled water, she poured it into a goblet and handed it to him. “You’re welcome.”

  “None for me, thanks.” Grant held up his hand to stop her from getting anything.

  “Suit yourself.” She shrugged and walked out, turning once at the door and shooting the back of D.W.’s head a narrow look with a sneer on her face.

  “She’s great, isn’t she?” Heather said, sidestepping Sonia and rushing in.

  Lies were just dripping off her luscious lips lately, weren’t they? That had Drake dropping his gaze there. Heat curled. Mistake!

  “I brought the proposal. I used Google Maps to get an impression of the island, topography, logistics, and the like.” Halting, she pointed a finger to the nearby conference table.

  He’d never seen her hair sticking out like that or her glasses so crooked before. Adorable! Sexy and seductive, too. How could she do that all at once? Drake jerked out of his stupor, shaking his head. “Gentlemen, shall we see what Heather’s cooked up for us?”

  He was losing it or he’d lost it already, he was certain as he tried to concentrate on her impromptu demonstration to an excited Grant and a subdued D.W. But Heather’s enthusiastic delivery held his rapt attention.

  Wi
th her light-green eyes sparkling behind her now straightened glasses, her ready smile, and quick wit, she captivated him. That and the cute way she tucked the tendrils of her falling hair behind one ear and giggled at times.

  His heartbeat thundered, pulse pounding. And all he could think about was kissing her sweet, strawberry-flavored lips again and holding her tight.

  Why had he blocked the obvious attraction before now? Preservation. Sanity.

  “That’s what we’ll check out early next week. Water supply, solar power system, possible building placements, and local construction codes. Also, I’m thinking spa, open-air and luxurious, here. Women will love it.” She drew a circle on the map, indicating the area. “Right, Drake?”

  “Sure,” he answered automatically, half aware of them all staring at him now.

  “Oh, Grant, thanks for okaying the getaway for Charlie and Alex. I’ll see her tonight and give her the packet you sent over.” Heather glanced at Drake expectantly.

  “Yes, thank you, Shipley.”

  “It’s true then?” Grant looked from her to him. “You’re getting married at the charity event. I’ll be there. Then the mini-moon is on my island?”

  All eyes focused on Drake.

  D.W., mostly silent until this moment, leaned forward, pinning him with a stare. “Dominique and I are looking forward to your nuptials at the charity event.” His grin, small and smug, flashed over his face. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Diamond.”

  The undercurrents brewed. D.W.’s unspoken challenge of not fronting the deal if they didn’t follow through nearly choked Drake. Or was that the thought of marriage, itself?

  Dragging his gaze from the older man, Drake sought out Heather, now pale and shaking. Everything centered on pulling this off. They both knew it. D.W. would not advance the cash to his son if he discovered they’d lied, through their teeth. Not only that, but the man could and most likely would destroy Drake, for the fun of it. The man toyed with people for play. The only thing he couldn’t manage to do thus far was keep his wife from straying.

  “I have many influential friends,” D.W. bragged.

  That and goons. The veiled threat was not so veiled. “My bride and I are delighted we can share our special ceremony with you, isn’t that right, Heather?” A tiny thrill raced through him at calling Heather his bride. Where had that come from?

  She clamped her mouth shut, pasting on a trembling smile.

  Pissing off D.W. Shipley had not been on his radar a few short days ago; however, he’d managed to get on the man’s bad side. And, it seemed, the guy would rather ruin him than admit his lying, cheating wife approached and propositioned Drake.

  How far would D.W. go? A glint appeared in his dark eyes and his smile grew.

  Yeah, he was going there!

  This is do-or-die! What the hell was Drake going to do now?

  Chapter 10

  The majestic courthouse surrounded Heather as she walked through the echoing halls. Wednesday’s lunchtime proved slow and laid back; however, the quiet atmosphere did not help her jittery nerves.

  Sending Drake away a few minutes ago did not do her any good. The man haunted her every thought, every action.

  “I’ll go with you,” he’d said. “Isn’t it part of the groom’s duties?” His smirk at their fib poked her. He hid his concern over the bold-faced lie pretty well since their nerve-racking meeting with D.W. Shipley and his son earlier.

  It still rankled her. The man was out for blood!

  Another wild idea had blasted in her head. Could she do it? Would Drake end up hating her for it?

  “He’s like family to me.” She practically choked. Remnants of her besties Lacey and Ash’s warnings blasted through her head still. Ask Gordo. He’ll know what to do. Heather was certain continuing with the fraud wasn’t one of the well-respected judge’s recommendations. But what she had in mind… “Well, better than visiting the real parents, by far.”

  “Just a few more days, Heather. We show up at the charity event Saturday night like an elated engaged couple, stumble over the pretend ceremony—brilliant idea on bringing the judge in on this, makes it look more official that way—fly off to that exotic honeymoon the next morning, and we come back three days later realizing we were never meant for each other. We break up. Over and done. Oh, after Grant signs the deal, that is. It’s a plan. Not too solid, but it can work.”

  “You think?” As plans go, it was lame, at best. The pressure at work with her co-workers begged for her to raise her hand and spill the truth. Hey, guys, he’s really not that into me.

  “You’re not looking for someone to talk you out of this, are you?”

  His intense stare made her gulp even now. That and his gorgeous good looks makes me melt every dang time! “No, of course not.” But, in the back of her mind, she begged for a voice of reason.

  Someone solid and strong and dependable. Thus, she’d headed here to meet up with the obvious choice.

  Rounding the corner now, she nearly bumped into the court clerk.

  “Heather, I just got your text. Judge is in chambers and will be happy to see you.” The middle-aged man beamed, as usual, and gave her a jaunty bow as he swept his arm out for her to go ahead.

  “Thanks, Louie. You’re a doll.”

  His cheeks dotted with pink and he gave her a goofy grin. “What can I say? I got a soft spot for all you girls. Even when you were giggling and getting cotton candy all over the judge’s chambers.”

  Heat crept up her neck at the memory of hanging out here and checking out the cute college interns. She shrugged, feeling all of seventeen again. “Teenage girls, what can I say?” She mimicked his words.

  “Those were the days, right?” he asked as he strolled away.

  Reaching the big oak door, Heather hesitated. A rush at the enormity of what she was about to ask flooded her. She sucked in a sharp breath and knocked softly.

  His gruff voice called out.

  She turned the doorknob and tiptoed in. “Judge?”

  “Ha! What, no Gordo?” He grinned as he peered over the top rims of his reading glasses, holding a book in his hands.

  “How did—” She stopped herself. “You know?” Her laugh came out on a puff of air as she closed the door behind her.

  He checked the clock on his desk, and then closed his book and set it on the side table near his elbow. “Thirty-three minutes. That’s all you’ve got. That gives me two minutes to don that robe and get back into court. Now, tell me what’s on your mind.” He whipped off his glasses, folded them up, and then pocketed them.

  Instantly, she felt at ease with him. “That leaves out the chitchat. Family good kind of stuff.” She followed the wave of his hand and took the chair next to his. Plunking down into it, she dropped her tote bag at her feet.

  “Come see for yourself. You and Ash need to visit more often. You two are always welcome at the Daniels home, but I don’t need to tell you that.”

  The thickness in her throat grew and she blinked back tears. He and his wife treated them as long-lost daughters most of the time, including them in family events, along with Lacey and their adopted little boys.

  She ached for a beautiful, loving family like that.

  Silence fell.

  “There’s three minutes gone,” he joked. “Time’s running out, Heather.”

  A swell of anxiety built. The truth rushed back. Time was running out for her and this fake marriage! “Judge Daniels. You’re like the father I never had and always wanted, so, if you have it in your heart, I’d like you to conduct my wedding. And give me away.”

  “I’d be happy to. Have a date in mind? Or a fella?” He frowned and she could only guess he was trying to recall who she’d been seeing.

  “Well, that’s the thing. I’ve known him for a couple of years and, we’ve been close, but, not like close, if you know what I mean.”

  “Not a clue.” He did look rather perplexed.

  She sucked in a lung full of air and blurted it out
. “It’s Saturday night. Yes, this Saturday night. And, Gordo, I’m…I’m getting married to my boss.”

  Only Drake didn’t know it was the real deal…

  ***

  “Hang on, Charlie,” Heather called as she saw the woman pop into the crammed dressing room, stuffed with wedding gowns and a dozen people in various stages of undress. The noise level, along with the chaotic scene, seemed to expand rather than dissipate in the last few minutes since she’d arrived for rehearsal.

  “Heather!” Charlie grinned, making her way through the clutter, and then hugged her. “Need help with your dress?”

  She shimmied again, feeling the gorgeous lacey fabric skim over her shoulders. She turned, exposing the long length of her back. The gown, edged in lace, fit her like a glove. “Buttons, if you can. I think Rico’s at his limit.” Nodding to the man assisting the distressed model on the other side of the room, she winced as he threw up his hands.

  Charlie groaned, whispering, “She wanted the princess gown and won’t give up until she gets it. All wrong for her.”

  “Did you get the travel information? I sent it over by courier.”

  “Yes, Peg got it. Alex and I can’t thank you enough. Owe you.”

  Heather gulped hard. Isn’t that what Howie said about Drake owing her? People did things, silly things, when they felt obligated. Being indebted to her wasn’t such a good idea. “No need.” She shrugged. “You seemed like you needed a vacay.”

  “Well, it’s not only a getaway, but a way to check out a new business venture. Maybe pulling together exclusive getaway packages for our elite clientele.”

  “Huh? You and Alex? You’re keeping King’s, right?”

  “Always!” The fierceness in her voice could not be mistaken.

  “Phew! I thought I was going to get a lot more people, especially employees, hating me.”

  “Done. Turn. What do you mean? Who could hate you?”

  Twirling around, Heather faced the woman’s concerned features. “No scowling. Glow, little mama.”

 

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