by Debra Holt
“They have one room left for this evening… a suite. I took it.”
Angie’s eyes registered the implication of his words before she could voice a reaction.
Jace forestalled her reply with a raised palm. “Don’t worry. You can take the room and I’ll sleep in the truck.” He made the statement with a sardonic twist to his mouth.
Right, make me the mean prudish witch in this. Angie shrewdly assessed him with a slight tilt of her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. This isn’t the dark ages. A suite should be more than enough room for two people.” If he thought she was going to play the part of the indignant female, he was in for a surprise. She would show him she was no fainting hothouse flower from the East.
Throwing open the car door, she swung her feet outwards to stand on the running board. One problem. Angie had not counted on the moisture that made the rubber slippery. With a quickness that belied his size, Jace’s arms shot out and caught her before she could fall flat on her face. It had to be the sudden shock of falling that made her catch her breath in an audible gasp. Or perhaps it was the fact she came up against a rock-hard chest where his arms held her none too gently.
“You’re smushing them,” she managed on a breathless note.
Angie looked up to find his gray eyes held a mixture of puzzlement and a male’s awareness of a shapely female body plastered against his.
“Them?”
Angie followed his eyes downward. She felt her cheeks flame as she pushed out of his arms and attempted to smooth her suit jacket. Then one hand moved to quickly push a heavy swath of black hair over her shoulder.
“The flowers, Mister Blackhawke. What did you think I meant?”
“Well, if you must know, I—” He did not get to finish.
“Forget I asked, I can guess.” Angie ended the subject, pushing past him to step inside the lobby with as much of her dignity intact as she could muster. She pretended to not take note of the sound of his low chuckle as he followed. He dared to laugh at her? Just you wait, mister. I’ll get you back. While he signed the paperwork at the front desk, she stood silently, also ignoring the interested glances being slid her way by the other staff.
The clerk handed Jace the key with a bright smile. “The bellboy will bring your luggage right up to your suite, sir. Please let us know if there’s anything else you require.”
Jace caught up with her as she was already headed toward the elevators. While they waited on the doors to open, Angie pretended a slow study of cheap Parisian street scene prints that hung on the walls of their present abode…Le Chateau Inn. She tried to avoid his nearness as long as possible. For some reason, she found her equilibrium affected whenever he came too close.
Just another fine mess. Angie had wanted an adventure. Was it only three weeks ago, that she and Kaitlyn headed to Texas? Time flies when one is having fun. Except here she was in the lobby of a hotel someplace along the Texas and New Mexico border with fake Paris on the walls and an “almost” American Indian beside her. Who would have thought? What would her friends at home in New York City think of it all?
The elevator doors slid open and she and Jace waited for the occupants to empty first. Just as she was about to take a step toward the interior of the car, another man slipped quickly into the foyer. He gave a brief nod in their direction. Then stopped dead in his tracks; a look of surprise aimed toward them. The man let out a loud “whoop” that made Angie jump, wide-eyed, back from the elevator.
“Jace Blackhawke! Fancy seeing you here! You’re kinda far from home, aren’t ya, son? Is the family with you?”
Angie fought to stifle the sudden urge to giggle at the look on Jace’s face. Gone was the usually stoic, cool veneer of the last week. It was evident he had definitely not expected to see anyone he knew at this hotel. The older man was dressed in a dark gray suit whose buttons were straining to keep the material together across a wide expanse of belly. The clerical collar stood out against the black shirt he wore. A man of the cloth.
Jace shook the hand that had been stuck out between them. At the same time, he managed to move her forward with a deft hand at her back as they stepped into the elevator. Angie was aware he punched the floor button—hard and more than once—obviously eager to get the car moving and end this sudden reunion. Her curiosity was peaked. Did she sense an opportunity?
Fate intervened. It came in the form of an innocent desk clerk who rushed up and halted their ascent with a quick arm inside the door.
“Excuse me, Mr. Blackhawke. Here’s an extra key for your new missus… in case she might want one too.”
There was an awkward silence as Jace almost yanked it from the clerk with a terse “thanks”. Now the stranger was the one to step back onto the threshold of the elevator, impeding its upward progress. The shock on his face was coupled with a wide grin.
“Well, I’ll be! Jason Blackhawke… married! Hallelujah, praise the good Lord!”
Angie found herself in the crosshairs of the man’s sights next. She instinctively took a step back and immediately came up against the solid wall of Jace’s chest. He did not move away as she would have expected and there was an odd comfort in that fact. The older man yanked the hat off his head and eyed her more closely.
“I almost forgot my manners in the surprise of such news! I’m Reverend Jackson, ma’am. I’ve known Jace and his family since he was just a young one back in Texas. My, my, so you’re the little lady who finally roped him in.” His gaze traveled to Jace. “You certainly picked a beauty.” Then she was targeted again. “Yes, sir, wait until the ladies in Santa Fe hear that you took this maverick off the market. Congratulations to both of you. I don’t know why my wife didn’t tell me…”
“Thanks, Reverend,” Jace ground out, finding his voice. “You’ll understand if we don’t have time to visit right now.”
“But, Jace, darling.” Angie purred, not able to resist this opportunity for a little fun payback. “We shouldn’t be rude. Where are your manners? Didn’t your family teach you better?” The added flutter of her long lashes in the direction of her “husband” was a genius move on her part… or so she thought.
The patterns that crossed Jace’s face went from stormy to darkly murderous in an instant. His face was turned away from the man, but his silver eyes were full bore on Angie’s. Maybe she overdid it a bit? The thought flew through her brain at that split-second. Was it too late to recall any of it? Geez, he really should get a sense of humor.
“Say! I have to call your aunt and uncle and we definitely should have a reception for you to introduce your…” The man’s words were cut off. His foot had moved back just enough to allow Jace’s finger on the button to work and the doors slid shut. Angie stood very still, waiting for the wrath of Jace Blackhawke to rain down upon her head any moment. There was only a heavy silence. She kept her eyes on the doors in front of her and tried to be quiet, but she just couldn’t.
“I don’t know what got into me. Sorry about that.” She ventured in a small voice. “He seemed nice enough. And wasn’t that odd that the bellboy thought we were married? Guess the way we’re dressed and me holding this bouquet just…”
“You have no idea what a hornet’s nest you just stirred up.” Jace’s tone punctuated his words.
Angie didn’t have to look at Jace’s face to know she’d see a stormy mask. A few moments later, the doors slid open on their floor. Angie was pushed out the opening by two strong hands on her shoulders that propelled her down the hallway. They came to a halt outside a pair of double wooden doors.
Angie’s eyes grew wide as she saw the sign on the door.
“Honeymoon Suite.” Angie read the words aloud, but that did not make them sound any better in her brain.
She whirled around and with accusing eyes looked at the man who looked back at her, a resigned set to his mouth. Was that his feeble attempt at a look of innocence?
“You said ‘suite’. I don’t recall the word ‘honeymoon’ mentioned in there. No wonder everyone
thinks we’re married.”
Jace slid the key card in the door and pushed. The bellboy, a teenager in ill-fitting green jacket and slacks, appeared around the corner with their bags at the same time.
“Like I said, the only suite left.” His voice was low but held no hint of any apology. “And you helped it along with your words.”
“Here, sir.” The bellboy set the bags down quickly and stepped forward to hold the door wide. There was a lopsided grin on his freckled face. “Let me hold the door for you and you can carry your wife across the threshold. I hear a bride likes that romantic stuff.”
Both Angie and Jace just looked at the boy in silence for a few moments. He could have just as well spoken in a foreign language. Angie was about to reply, but the words were cut off when she felt her feet leave the ground and she was swung upward by a pair of strong arms. She didn’t even have time to grab a solid hold around the man’s neck. Three quick strides later, Jace unceremoniously deposited her in the middle of the suite.
There were words that came to her, but those that came to mind were not quite in keeping with her bid to try to retain a measure of dignity. Angie kept quiet, biting the inside of her bottom lip to manage that, as Jace handed the still grinning teen a couple of bills for a tip.
Pulling the door shut behind him, the boy hesitated and then stuck his head back inside. “Have a great night!” With that, he was gone. Jace added the latch on the door to make certain.
The “Honeymoon Suite” had off-white walls and beige carpet. At least Angie gave it the benefit of the doubt in thinking it was meant to be that color. The drapes and bedspread were light blue in some shiny brocade material. Pink heart shaped pillows had been tossed in the middle of the bed.
“I didn’t think you could find a round bed outside of Las Vegas.” Angie noted with a hint of amusement in her voice. Then her eyes caught the mirrored ceiling above the bed and she quickly turned her attention away from it. She hoped the sudden warmth she felt didn’t translate into a blush. Too late.
“Very interesting.”
Angie’s gaze flew to her companion’s face. Was that a smirk or a grin he was trying to keep contained as his gaze took in the same mirrored ceiling? She didn’t want to speculate any further along those lines. Her attention returned back to the rest of their surroundings.
A chair and a loveseat completed the “suite.” Drab chic? Was there even a real label for such a room? Had she stumbled into a parallel universe? Perhaps she was a contestant on one of those hidden camera shows? Would she find that this was all some sort of weird nightmare that she could have with her eyes wide open? There were so many questions, yet so few answers. Angie had certainly wanted adventure. Now her own words mocked her. Her patience and her sanity were taking a slow slide downward after the events of the day.
“There are really no words to convey my thoughts right now… in an appropriate manner. “Please excuse me.” Angie spoke the words to no one in particular, her facial features set in almost an eerie calm.
Jace’s eyes narrowed on her face. Let him think she was having some sort of mental break with reality. She certainly hoped that to be the case.
Angie grabbed her small overnight bag. With the bag in one hand and the wilting bouquet still clasped in the other, she walked with as much poise as she could muster at that point in the direction of the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind her. A second later, there was a louder sound. The lock was engaged with a good degree of force.
*
Jace expelled a long sigh. Tension had built up inside him until he felt like a taut string on a bow that was about to break anytime. He shrugged out of his suit jacket, tossing it onto the chair in the corner of the room. His tie soon followed. Fingers undid the top button of his dress shirt and he felt immediate relief.
Usually dressed in jeans, dress shirt, boots and hat, he had never cared for the restriction of a business suit and tie. However, a best man had obligations and he had done his. He was still doing it. Although, in hindsight, he should have told Clay a resounding “no” when he had made the request that Jace take his new bride’s best friend to Santa Fe with him.
Jace had taken a first glance at Angelina Lord, as she stood beside the car after he and Clay had finally caught up to the pair of females on the highway. While Clay and Kaitlyn had been engaged in a heated discussion a few yards away from them, he had ventured a glance… then a second, longer look. Jace could get away with that since he had his dark lenses to conceal his eyes from their target. He had also taken a third and a fourth look… all the while maintaining his stance of nonchalance, leaning back against the hood of his SUV.
The first thing he noticed were the amazing green eyes. They drew him in and held him prisoner without one ounce of fight on his part. Then there was the thick mane of coal black hair that framed her heart-shaped face and fell across her shoulders and down her back. It glistened in the rising morning sunlight as black as any raven’s wing he had ever seen. His fingers had tingled with a desire to touch it. Was it as soft as it looked? Jace should have known that was the beginning of trouble for him. Strange feelings and weird thoughts had assailed him as he stood under her regard. He hadn’t cared for the way he felt.
Then the woman had turned her attention toward him for a second time and that was when he experienced an unusual jolt to his midsection. It was a reaction that put his whole body on alert. Emerald green eyes had instantly sparked across the distance at him. Bewitching eyes? Why that description crossed his mind more than once he could not say, except their color mesmerized him with its clarity; their mysterious gaze as all-seeing, all-knowing as a feline’s silent regard.
Over the course of the next few days, while the others were caught up in the wedding fervor, he silently watched her from a distance. There was a question he was trying to answer… only he wasn’t too certain of what that question was. There was danger there. He should keep his distance, he had warned himself more than once of that fact. Had he listened? No. Should he have listened? Most probably.
Jace had done a good job of dodging her green eyes until earlier in the day. All eyes were on the bride, except for his. His gaze kept traveling to Angie, who stood beside her friend, performing her duty as maid of honor. Dressed in a soft, yellow-colored two-piece suit, she looked like a cool million.
Jace noted the expressions that danced across her face as the minister intoned the vows. First happiness and joy, but then his eyes noted a faint sadness. It lasted for only a moment or two each time and then would disappear. No one else noticed. He had seen it though. When the tears had come in the parting farewell from her friend, he had experienced something quite unusual for him. Jace wanted to gather her in his arms and tell her all would be okay. Whatever pain was inside her would vanish. He would see to that. Where had that come from? He didn’t want to know. The woman had “danger” written all over her. She was not of his world and he certainly was not someone she would welcome into hers.
His unofficial assignment was to get her to Santa Fe and he would do that. Then that was it. Just as quickly, another thought came to mind. Jace felt a groan escape inside him. Luther Jackson… the man in the elevator. He would have to be in this same hotel at the same time!
It was technically by omission, but he had lied… or let the man believe a lie without correction. To his family’s pastor no less. By now, he would have phoned his wife with the news. His wife, Mildred, just happened to be one of his aunt’s weekly bridge partners. Mildred Jackson could spread gossip faster than a summer wildfire could spread its devastation. If his aunt hadn’t heard the news by now, she would by morning.
To compound matters, Mildred’s sister was married to Mayor Saldana, who played weekly golf with Jace’s boss. Yep, this snowball was rolling downhill and growing faster by the moment. He better figure a way out of this mess and sooner rather than later.
A knock sounded at the door of the suite. Jace crossed the room and opened it and the familiar bellboy stood i
n front of him. He still had the same silly grin on his face. This time, he had a tray of chocolate covered strawberries in his hands. Jace looked from the kid to the tray and then back to the kid again.
“What is it? I didn’t order anything.” His tone, coupled with the impatient look in his cool gaze, brought the brightness level of the teen’s smile down a peg or two.
“These were sent up to you and your wife from a Reverend Jackson. He also ordered a bottle of champagne, but we don’t have any in the hotel at the moment. We sent someone out to find a bottle though. When it gets here, I’ll bring that up too.” The kid spat out the words as fast as he could.
The news did not make Jace happy. The reverend was growing into a huge problem by leaps and bounds. He nearly jerked the tray out of the bellboy’s hands. Jace fished out another couple of bills for yet another tip. He shut the door and cut off whatever the teen was about to add. He dropped the tray on the table in front of the couch.
If he thought that was the end of that, he was about to be set straight with the ringing of his cell phone. Withdrawing it from his pocket, Jace grimaced when he saw the caller ID. Too late. This would be the dreaded phone call from his aunt. The word had travelled with the speed of a supersonic jet. Jace drew in a deep breath and answered.
“Hello, Aunt Victoria, I was—” He was cut off.
“About to call me? Was that what you were going to do? Before or after your honeymoon?” True to form, she was a woman who cut to the heart of any matter.
Jace tried to assemble his mind to think fast, but he was on new ground here.
“Is she one of the women you have been seeing from here? Is it that Hawkins woman?” “That Hawkins woman”, as his aunt referred to her, was not someone his aunt had ever taken a liking to… and they had only met briefly… once… at a social event.
“No, Aunt, she’s not from Santa Fe. As a matter of fact, we met at a wedding. It was when I stood up for Clay Morgan at his wedding in Texas. She was the maid of honor. I think I may have mentioned her to you.” Another little falsehood… add to the funeral pyre.
