by Debra Webb
“I’ll just be a moment, Mr. Cooper,” she said, breaking into his careful study of her natural habitat. “Make yourself at home.”
He turned to her then. “Doug. Please, call me Doug.”
She nodded and forced a smile. “Be back in two shakes, Doug.”
In her bedroom she closed the door and suddenly wondered what on earth she would wear. Okay, she told herself, it wasn’t as if it was a date. She could wear any old thing.
But where would they go?
She mentally ticked off all four of the local restaurants and finally decided on Randy’s. The place was the nicest in town and served a wide variety of entrées. Though she didn’t expect Mr. Cooper—Doug, she amended—to be impressed, at least he wouldn’t go hungry.
Clothes…what to wear? She chewed her lower lip and tried to decide if she even still owned a dress other than the ones she wore to church, which were sorely out of date and totally unflattering. She had gone to her five-year high-school reunion a couple of years ago. Hadn’t she bought something then?
Sixty seconds later she’d gone through her entire closet to finally find the dress in question on the last hanger on the opposite side from where she’d started. Just her luck.
The dress was black…that was good. She’d seen ladies wear little black dresses into Randy’s. The problem was, it had long sleeves and it was unseasonably warm out tonight and the hem was just a smidgen on the long side with a floppy ruffle. But that had been the style two years ago. Or maybe it was simply the one dress on the clearance rack she’d liked.
Oh, well. It wasn’t as though she had a lot of choices.
She couldn’t keep her guest waiting forever. With that in mind she rushed through a sponge bath and twisted her hair up into a bun of sorts. No kind of makeup ever looked good with her complexion so she didn’t even bother. A spritz of fruit-scented spray and she was ready.
But the dress…well, it looked kind of pitiful. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table and realized twenty minutes had passed. She didn’t have time for this…but this was her first sort of date in two years. Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t been out since her five-year reunion. How pathetic was that? And she remembered well the looks her dress had gotten that night. The best description she could call to mind was pained. Her friends had lied and said she looked great but she hadn’t missed the uncomfortable expressions on their faces when they said it. Okay, so the dress sucked in its current state.
She couldn’t take those kind of looks tonight…especially not from Doug Cooper, bodyguard…spy…or whatever. She’d had too much dumped on her today already. Any more sympathy from the guy and she might just throw up.
Holding her breath, she did the only thing she could. She ripped off the left sleeve. Just tugged it clean loose from the shoulder of the dress and off her arm. She looked at her bare arm and then the covered one. Minus the sleeve was definitely better. With a firm hand she did the same to the right sleeve.
“Not bad,” she murmured as she leaned closer to the mirror and picked away the remnants of thread clinging here and there where the sleeves had previously attached. She stood back and looked herself up and down once more. The neckline was a little high, which couldn’t be changed, and the dress was still too long. The ruffle had to go.
Eddi reached for the edge of the ruffle and a soft rap echoed at her door. Her breath caught and she almost toppled over.
“Is everything all right?”
She glanced at the clock once more and noted the time. Thirty minutes. No wonder he’d gotten worried. “I’ll be right out.”
Scarcely breathing, she listened for the telltale footfalls as he moved back to the living room before she snagged the edge of the ruffle. The ruffle didn’t want to come off quite so easily. By the time she’d pulled it off all the way around, she’d almost broken a sweat. After picking away the thread remnants, she eyed her reflection one last time. Now the hem of the dress hit just below midthigh. She smiled, pleased with what she had achieved. The dress actually looked like the typical black sheath one would purchase for a cocktail party or any other number of social affairs.
And it hadn’t cost her a dime.
Pleased with her ingenuity, she smoothed her hands over the fabric, enjoying the way it clung to her body. Okay. Now she was ready. Shedding a little of her “good girl” image would boost her self-confidence in this stranger’s presence. At least she hoped it would.
DOUG HAD SURVEYED every photograph and piece of needlepoint displayed in the quaint living room. He had even scanned the evening paper. By the time Eddi had finally come out of her room, he’d been contemplating turning on the television to catch the evening news.
But, he had to admit, she was indubitably worth the wait.
Never in a million years had he expected the plumber to clean up so well, but she definitely did.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she offered as she breezed into the room.
The creamy, smooth look of her skin combined with the fiery highlights of her hair and the curve-hugging little black dress was nothing short of inspiring. Unfortunately the thoughts it inspired were way out of line.
“What’s wrong?” she teased. “Didn’t you expect me to own a dress?”
Not quite that dress, he said to himself before saying to her, “I never underestimate a lady. I’m only surprised that you would bother on my account.”
She moved toward the door a little slower than what was normal for her. The shoes, he decided. The heels weren’t stilettos, but they were high-heeled when compared to the sneakers she seemed to prefer. Once at the door she turned back to him and smiled, a calculated twist of her lips that fell just shy of seductive. Another surprise. Or maybe she simply didn’t realize just how appealing she looked when she tried.
“No bother.” She lifted a speculative eyebrow. “Besides, this has certainly been the day for surprises.”
Indeed, he mused.
After settling Eddi into the passenger seat of his SUV, Doug moved around to the other side and climbed in. “Where to?”
“A place called Randy’s.” She quickly spouted off the directions, which weren’t complicated since Meadowbrook was a small town.
Within minutes of their arrival at the restaurant they were seated and their orders taken. Doug conceded that the place was better than he’d hoped for. On a Wednesday night the crowd was light, but the atmosphere was pleasant and private.
He waited for her to start firing questions at him but it didn’t happen. She seemed content just to sit and enjoy their relaxing surroundings. Maybe she expected him to make the first move.
“Do you have any questions regarding what I’ve told you so far?”
She studied him for a long moment as if contemplating how to proceed. He couldn’t quite read the emotion in her eyes but there was something there. Trepidation perhaps.
“I only have one question,” she said, her tone carefully devoid of inflection.
Doug’s instincts went on point. “What would that be?”
“What precisely is it that Mrs. D’Mar—my grandmother,” she amended, “wants from me?”
He inclined his head and quoted the agenda he’d been given. “She wants to be a part of your life. She wants to know you and for you to know the family business.”
That blue gaze narrowed slightly. “I don’t believe that’s all there is to it.”
Their server arrived and Doug waited until he’d placed the salads in front of them and hurried away before continuing, “What makes you say that?”
Eddi stared at her salad a moment then shifted that penetrating focus back to him. “That’s just too simple. She must want more. Surely she doesn’t expect me to actually handle business affairs. The only thing I know about jewelry is that I can’t afford any of the good stuff.”
Doug leaned back more fully in his chair and considered the lovely woman across the table for a moment before he replied, “A board of directors and a very savvy CEO r
un the day-to-day business. With that aside, what do you want or expect? It seems to me that you’ve come to some sort of decision.” And he did have that feeling. After she’d spoken to her father she appeared to have reached some conclusion. He felt a certain ease about her that hadn’t been there before. That’s why she’d agreed to dinner, he surmised.
“I’ve decided that if, in fact, I am heiress to such a great fortune that the least I can do is help my family.” She looked directly at him then. “My real family.”
Clarification hadn’t been necessary. He knew who she meant. “I can’t imagine that Mrs. D’Martine would expect otherwise.”
“Good, because that’s the only way I will get involved is if it helps my family.”
Doug figured that was as close to an agreement as they were going to get for the time being.
“You understand that I’ll be your constant shadow—day and night—until further notice, and that there are details that must be worked out first.”
She looked startled but nodded hesitantly, then ventured, “What sort of details?”
Now came the hard part. “There is no way to protect you from the media frenzy that will no doubt descend the moment the first whiff of this story hits the air. In order to protect the D’Martine interests as well as your own, you need to be prepared for that.”
A tiny frown line wiggled its way across her otherwise smooth forehead. “Prepared how?”
“As a member of a family of that social stature, there are certain outward expectations. Along with the title of heiress comes specific public obligations and assumptions.”
The frown deepened. “So, you’re saying that to help my family I have to dress and act like a D’Martine heiress?”
“Exactly.”
She shrugged. “Makes sense but I’m not sure I know how to act like one of them. I’m just a regular girl…a real person.”
To say he was surprised at her willingness to cooperate would have been an enormous understatement. He was surprised and relieved. Enough so he didn’t bother explaining that not all wealthy people fell into the category of them just as all nonwealthy people weren’t real as she put it. He’d stopped trying to clarify his position long ago. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. “Any other questions?”
She took some time before she answered. He waited, almost afraid her willingness would suddenly evaporate, then she said, “Just one.”
He gestured for her to go on.
“Can you teach me how to act like an heiress?”
“IT’S NOT TOO LATE,” his partner argued vehemently.
It sounded a little late to Joe. But he listened to the voice on the other end of the line just the same.
“I put everything on the line twenty-five years ago and you failed. Failure is not acceptable this time. It doesn’t matter that a bodyguard is in place already. All we need is the proper distraction.”
That was true enough. Joe had watched the last D’Martine he’d had in the crosshairs fall because he’d been distracted. It could work just as well for this one.
“What kind of distraction do we need?” As far as he could tell there was no love interest in the girl’s life.
His partner laughed but the sound held no humor. “I think that’s been taken care of for us already.”
A smile split Joe’s beard-stubbled face as he considered what his old friend meant. “Just let me know when you’re ready.” He hung up without the usual niceties. No point wasting the breath. His relationship with his partner would be over soon enough. Joe had made a few more decisions on his own during the last twenty-four hours.
If they got a shot at this second chance, and it looked as if they might, there were not going to be any mistakes this time.
And this time there wasn’t going to be anyone to share the money with when it was finally his.
The D’Martine heir wasn’t the only one living on borrowed time. So was his old friend and partner.
Chapter Four
“Be still!”
“How can I be still when my legs are trembling from the strain of holding up your fat—”
“Mattie,” Minnie warned. “We’re all under pressure here.”
Mattie glared at her twin sister, but she was right. If they didn’t hold Irene up where she could see, none of them would learn anything about what was going on at Eddi’s house. Mattie felt sure she would not live through the day if she didn’t find out what that stranger…that spy was doing with poor, sweet little Eddi. It was 9:00 a.m. already and Eddi hadn’t left for the hardware and Irene was pretty sure the young man had stayed the night. Mattie shivered at the idea. Not that she blamed Eddi, but the man was a stranger…could be a criminal even. But, oh, what a deliciously handsome one!
Bolstering her strength, Mattie tightened her hold on Irene’s left leg. “So, tell us what’s going on in there, would you?” she demanded stiffly. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.”
Ella took a long drag from her cigar, then huffed, “That’s all you do is complain, Mattie. I swear I’ve never known anyone who could complain as much as you.”
Mattie lifted a skeptical eyebrow and glared at Ella who remained relaxed against Irene’s ’54 Cadillac as if it were her personal prop. “I don’t see you over here helping out,” Mattie snapped.
Ella rolled her eyes so far back in her head she’d surely have gotten a glimpse of her brain if she’d had one. “You know I can’t do any lifting with my bad back.”
Her own strain showing as she hung on to Irene’s other leg, Minnie harrumphed. “We won’t go into how you got that bad back.”
A victorious smile stretched across Mattie’s lips. Way to go, sis, she cheered silently.
Ella looked properly put upon. “Just because I’ve had seven husbands doesn’t mean—”
“Shh,” warned Irene. “I can see them now.”
Peeking over the row of hedges and using a pair of bird-watching binoculars, Irene leaned forward for a better view through the kitchen window. Mattie and Minnie groaned with the awkward move.
“What do you see?” Mattie hissed. It had better be good considering all this trouble. It was a good thing Mr. Curtis, Eddi’s neighbor, wasn’t home or he’d have been getting a hell of a view of Irene’s considerable tush as she leaned over that privet hedge. Of course, Irene would say that her tush was just right in a Marilyn Monroe sort of way, but Mattie simply called it fat.
Minnie blew the tail of Irene’s skirt out of her face and demanded, “Tell us something, Irene.”
“Both of the strangers are there.”
Minnie’s eyes went as wide as Mattie’s own surely had.
“The older one,” Irene went on in a stage whisper, “the one in the designer suit just opened his leather briefcase.”
A simultaneous gasp echoed from the threesome on the ground.
“The good-looking young one—the one who looks like JFK Jr.—”
“Pierce Brosnan,” Ella argued, cutting Irene off.
“Shut up, Ella,” Mattie griped. “We want to know what Irene can see, not what you think.”
Ella simply rolled her eyes again and puffed away on her contraband.
“The good-looking one is speaking to her now.” A dreamy sigh. “Oh, if you could only see the way our Eddi looks at him. He’s the one. I just know it.”
“I’ve only seen him once but he looks like the one to me,” Ella said, adding her two cents’ worth. Which, in Mattie’s estimation, wasn’t worth even one cent, and which she promptly proceeded to state out loud for all to hear, “If he’s a man and still breathing, you’d think he was the one.”
Ella straightened, incredibly without flinching considering her back was so bad, marched over and stabbed a long, blood-red nail right in Mattie’s face. “Listen here, Miss High-and—”
“Will you two give it a rest?” Minnie ordered. “We’ve got to think about Eddi right now, not ourselves.”
Ella glared silently at Mattie. If Mattie hadn
’t been holding up Irene’s big butt she’d have kicked Ella’s right then and there. But Minnie was right. This was about Eddi.
“Okay, okay. Listen up,” Irene announced, garnering their full attention. Her tone turned mysterious then, “Eddi has picked up a pen to sign some sort of document.”
Another collective gasp.
“She signed it!”
Minnie, Mattie and Ella all looked from one to the other.
“Now the one in the suit is packing up his briefcase,” Irene said in a rush, “including the signed document…he’s leaving.” Irene made a startled sound. “He’s going to kiss her!”
“What?” Ella demanded, craning her neck to look up at Irene.
“Who’s going to kiss her?” Mattie seconded the demand, wishing she could see for herself what the heck was going on.
“The old one?” Minnie asked with a frown.
“No,” Irene growled impatiently, glancing down at them. “The young one.” She peered through the binoculars once more. “He—oh…my…God.”
Before Mattie could insist on an elaboration, Irene’s weight shifted. Minnie gasped. Mattie’s grip on Irene’s left leg slipped. Minnie lost whatever balance she’d managed to maintain. They all went down in a tangle of arms and legs and rayon, bowling over Ella en route.
“HOLD STILL JUST a second longer,” Doug murmured.
Any oxygen Eddi’s lungs had contained evaporated the moment Doug Cooper moved in close. She scolded herself silently for reacting in such a way, but she simply couldn’t help herself. He stood so close that she could smell his cologne, something understated and elegant, yet intensely masculine.
How was she supposed to hold still when her whole body was strumming in anticipation of his touch? He tucked the tiny mechanism, no larger than the tip of a pencil eraser, behind her ear and pressed it against the skin there. Her breath caught in spite of her best efforts not to allow him to know how he affected her.
He stepped back and smiled reassuringly. “Now you’re officially on the Colby Agency radar screen.”
