WHITELAW'S WEDDING

by Beverly Barton

  Hunter whirled her around so quickly that she gasped with surprise. "If our engagement was real, I'd have every right to ask you that question. And someday, some man is going to have that right. What are you going to tell him?"

  "The right man will accept the fact that a part of me will always love Rodney," she said, her voice quivering slightly despite her resolve to remain in control of her emotions. "Mike and I could have had a good marriage. We understood each other and accepted the fact that we would both always love other people."

  "I wouldn't have a problem knowing that in some way you would always love Rodney, if you were able to put that love where it belonged—in the past. But I would have a major problem, sleeping three to a bed, knowing that you could never feel the passion for me that you had felt for him."

  "Then we wouldn't have a problem," she said, being totally honest. "I feel more passion with you than I've ever felt with anyone. That's what our relationship is all about, isn't it? Physical attraction. A strong passion that overrides everything else, even common sense." She could never admit to Hunter that she loved him, that her love and passion for Rodney paled in comparison to the way she felt about him.

  "If you can feel that strongly about me, then you can experience it again with, a man you love." Hunter clutched the back of her neck and pulled her to him. "And believe me, brat, I don't pity that guy, whoever he'll be. I envy him."

  Pleasure radiated through Manda. Pure, thankful pleasure. Perhaps Hunter didn't realize it, but he had just given her a gift with his words.

  When he kissed her, she opened herself up to the sensuous enjoyment of the moment. She experienced the kiss with every fiber of her being. Sensations of joy and excitement burst inside her, warming her body and preparing it for the intimacy it craved. With Hunter. Only with Hunter.

  Standing on tiptoe, she clung to him, her mound pressed against his sex. For several glorious moments she forgot where she was and what was happening all around her. But just as Hunter cupped her buttocks and deepened the kiss, a startled gasp reminded her that the door to the den stood wide open.

  "You two are putting on quite a show for anyone who passes by," Gwen said. "I'm glad that Grams didn't see this vulgar display."

  Hunter kept his hands on Manda's behind, refusing to release her as he glanced over his shoulder at Gwen. "Close the door, would you, Gwen? I'm going to ravish my fiancée and unless you want to watch…"

  Gwen slammed the door. Hunter chuckled. Manda tried not to laugh, but couldn't stop the giggles that erupted from her throat.

  "You're right," Manda said. "She hates me. And now, she envies me more than ever. She thinks I'm going to have it all—love and passion and a real happily-ever-after life."

  "She's right. Someday you will have it all."

  But not with you, Manda thought. The sad thing was that he didn't realize that with any other man it would never be the same. It could never be everything she wanted love to be. Love had been young and new and wonderful with Rodney. And it had been comfortable and consoling and sweet with Mike. But only with Hunter was it all that love should be—that earth-shattering, gut-clenching excitement that consumed a person body and soul.

  "We really shouldn't stay in here much longer," Manda said. "We have guests. And after all, the party is in our honor."

  * * *

  Several hours later when most of the guests had left and the caterer's crew was cleaning up, Manda and Hunter said their good-nights to her family.

  "You two must be here promptly at three," Grams said. "The photographer will be here then and can get the pictures done so that after the wedding there won't be any delay before the reception."

  "We'll be here on time. I promise." Manda hugged her grandmother.

  Despite the tension in the air, Gwen's hostility and Chris's rudeness, the evening had been somewhat enjoyable. She had almost forgotten that they had been expecting an attack all evening. Upon arriving. While they'd been out on the patio. Even inside the house.

  As they waved goodbye and headed down the sidewalk, Manda noticed the Dundee agents were all outside. Matt O'Brien stood by the open doors of the catering truck. Wolfe stood off to the side, still snapping the occasional picture. And Jack Parker drove Hunter's Lexus into the drive, stepped out and opened both doors. Adrenaline rushed through Manda's body. For a couple of seconds her rapid heartbeat obliterated every other sound. Some strange sixth sense forewarned her of danger. She held tightly to Hunter's arm. Too tightly. He paused on the walkway and turned to her.

  "What's wrong?" he asked.

  She tried to smile, but failed. "I don't know. But I'm scared."

  "Try to stay calm. If anything happens, remember that we've got the situation under control as much as possible."

  Traffic on North Pine Street

  on a Friday night was always rather heavy, since the road led straight into town. The drone of vehicles several yards away on the street hummed inside Manda's head. Suddenly her feet seemed unnaturally heavy, as if her ankles carried lead weights. Her movements became sluggish. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Perry and Grams in the doorway. The moment suddenly became surreal.

  As if in slow motion, she returned her gaze to Hunter, then heard the horrific sound of a gunshot. In her peripheral vision she noticed movement. The Dundee agents dispersing, jumping into action. Hunter threw her to the ground, but before he could cover her body with his, the first shot hit its mark and tossed Hunter backward and onto the sidewalk. Manda's scream echoed in her ears.

  She crawled toward Hunter, but before she reached him, Jack Parker, gun in hand, came down over her, using his body as a shield. She fought him like a tigress, wild with the need to be with her mate.

  "Hunter!" she cried. "Please, let me go to Hunter."

  If Hunter was dead, she would die, too.

  * * *

  Chapter 13

  « ^ »

  Hunter felt as though he'd been kicked in the chest by a mule. The shooter must have been using a high-powered rifle, which confirmed their suspicion that Manda's crazed admirer had hired himself a hit man. With his chest aching and the wind knocked out of him, Hunter lay on the ground, thankful that the lightweight, tactical bulletproof vest he wore under his shirt gave protection up to Threat Level IV, which included all handguns, AK47s and .303 hunting rifles.

  Manda's cries prompted him to action. The moment Hunter managed to stand, Jack released her and she came barreling toward him. He grabbed her arm and pulled her with him into the house. The front door stood wide open, apparently left that way by Perry and Grams, who hovered at the far end of the hallway. When he came inside, Jack slammed the door shut.

  Manda clung to Hunter, her fingers caressing his face. "Are you really all right? The bullet didn't go through the vest? When I saw you fall, I wasn't sure. Oh, God, Hunter, if anything had happened to you. Please, tell me you're all right. Damn it, say something to me. I'm out of my mind—"

  Hunter covered her mouth with his, adeptly silencing her manic tirade. The minute she stilled, he lifted his head and said, "I'm okay. I've probably got a bruise the size of a grapefruit on my chest, but that should be the extend of the damage."

  Gwen came down the stairs, her eyes wide. "What happened? I thought I heard—" When she saw the man who had been parking the cars at the party standing by the front door with a gun in his hand, she stopped dead still halfway in her descent. "My God, who … what are you—"

  "It's all right, Gwen." Perry left Grams at the end of the hall and came forward so that his wife could see him. "Don't be frightened. That man is a Dundee agent." He glanced at Jack. "Is it safe for my wife to come downstairs?"

  "It should be safe," Jack replied. "Our shooter probably isn't anywhere on the grounds. Matt and Wolfe will be letting us know something soon."

  "Matt and Wolfe?" Gwen remained glued to the spot in the middle of the staircase.

  "More Dundee agents," Perry said. "One posed as the photographer's assistant tonight and the othe
r was one of the caterer's helpers."

  With his arm around Manda, Hunter urged her to come with him into the living room. When they passed in front of the stairs, Gwen gasped and her startled gaze met Hunter's. The woman looked surprised to see him alive. Had Gwen expected him to be dead?

  "What's wrong?" Hunter asked.

  "When I heard the shot, I thought perhaps you'd been … that either you or Manda had been killed," Gwen said. "Thank God, you're both all right."

  While Hunter led Manda into the living room, Perry hurried up the steps to Gwen. Grams walked down the hallway and when she passed Jack, she gave him a hasty upturned-nose perusal, then continued her regal strut into the living room.

  "Would someone like to explain to me what's going on?" Barbara Munroe seated herself in a wing chair near the pocket doors. "There's been entirely too much excitement here tonight."

  Manda clung to Hunter. They stood off to themselves, several feet away from Grams. Perry led his wife into the room and they sat together on the sofa.

  "Someone tried to kill Hunter," Manda explained, her gaze never leaving his face. "Someone shot at him."

  "So, it's happened again." Grams looked directly at Hunter. "How is it that you weren't killed? The man must have been a poor shot."

  "Yes, ma'am, something like that," Hunter said.

  A phone rang. Everyone either jumped, gasped or did both. Everyone except Hunter and Jack, who pulled a cellular phone from his pocket.

  "Is that our telephone?" Grams asked. "Why isn't Bobbie Rue answering it?"

  "Bobbie Rue went home for the night," Perry said. "And that's not our phone ringing."

  Jack spoke so quietly that Hunter couldn't make out anything he said. After Jack returned the phone to his pocket, he holstered his pistol, then came into the living room, straight to Hunter.

  "That was Matt," Jack said, his voice low. "The police that Chief Burgess posted across the street spotted a guy with a rifle. Before they could apprehend him, he sped away in a car alone. But they're chasing him down right now. Matt and Wolfe are right behind the police and as soon as the law apprehends our hit man, Matt will call back."

  "Once he's captured, he'll be able to tell us who hired him, won't he?" Manda asked. "Then the police can arrest whoever was behind Rodney and Mike's murders and—"

  "Speak up, dear girl," Grams said. "We can't hear what y'all are saying and it's terribly impolite to whisper like that."

  "Sorry, Grams."

  Manda gazed up at Hunter and he understood that she was asking his permission before giving the others any information.

  "Mrs. Munroe, the police may soon be arresting the man who tried to shoot me," Hunter said. "When they have him in custody, then Manda and I will go down to the police station."

  "Is that necessary?" Grams asked. "Manda shouldn't be exposed to such unpleasantness."

  Manda's lips twitched and Hunter knew she was as amused as he by her grandmother's comment. "You don't understand," Manda said. "This professional killer will be able to tell us who hired him."

  "Dear me." Gwen gasped. "It's so unbelievable. Does this mean that the wedding tomorrow will be postponed? If so, then I have a great deal to do. I must contact Reverend Titus and the caterers and the florist and—"

  Perry patted his wife on the back. "Everything will be all right. I'll help you do whatever needs to be done."

  "We aren't postponing the wedding," Hunter said.

  "We aren't?" Manda's eyes widened in surprise. "But if—"

  Hunter whispered. "If the police captured the hit man, there will be time enough in the morning to cancel the wedding."

  "If?" Manda asked, keeping her voice low. "Do you think he might get away?"

  "Let's hope not."

  Grams cleared her throat. "Y'all are doing it again. Whispering. I taught you better manners, Manda."

  "Why don't I fix some coffee for all of us, while we're waiting to hear," Perry said. "I doubt we'll be getting, any sleep tonight."

  Forty-five minutes later, after Perry had served coffee in the living room and Grams had fallen asleep in the wing chair, Jack's cell phone rang again. He answered it after the first ring.

  "Parker, here." Pause. "Yeah." Pause. "Damn!" Pause. "Okay, I'll tell them, and thanks, Matt. You and Wolfe come on back to the Munroe house and we'll discuss strategy with Hunter."

  "What happened?" Hunter asked. "Did the police nab our hit man?"

  "Not exactly."

  "What do you mean, not exactly?" Manda asked.

  "Three police cars were in on the chase," Jack said. "Matt and Wolfe kept out of their way, but stayed right with them. The guy was driving over a hundred miles an hour. They were closing in on him when he lost control of the car and careened over an embankment, flipped over twice and flew headlong into a tree."

  "Don't tell me." Hunter clenched his jaw.

  "Yeah, our hit man is dead. Matt said it looks like his neck is broken. So this guy isn't going to be telling us anything."

  Manda slumped against Hunter. "We still don't know who hired him … don't know who's behind the threats."

  "This means that our maniac might have to act on his own, if he's going to stop the wedding tomorrow."

  * * *

  Manda looked at herself in the cherry cheval mirror in her old bedroom in the Munroe house. Despite the fact that she'd gotten only a few hours' sleep in the wee hours of the morning, Grams and Gwen kept assuring her that she looked lovely. The off-the-rack wedding dress fit her perfectly. She had decided to wear her hair down because that was the way Hunter liked it. She lifted the beaded headband out of the box and set it in place. Her fingers slipped down to caress the diamond earrings Claire had given her.

  She took one final look in the mirror. There, she was ready. Ready to enter into a marriage that was doomed for a quickie divorce. She wondered if Hunter was as nervous as she was. Probably not. After all, he didn't have the emotional investment in their relationship that she did. To him this farce of a marriage was just part of his job. And if they lived through the ceremony and the reception, and they actually went on a honeymoon, then sex with his temporary bride would simply be a bonus for Hunter.

  A knock sounded outside her room. "Yes?"

  Grams cracked open the door and peeped inside. "May I come in? I have something that I'd like for you to wear today."

  "Please, Grams, come in." What could it be? Manda wondered. Something borrowed or something blue? Claire had provided the something new, so perhaps Grams thought she should contribute the something old.

  As Grams entered the bedroom, Manda noticed the sheer lace and tulle veil in her hands. Oh, no, please, no. She recognized the item. The veil her mother had worn on her wedding day.

  "I know you didn't order a veil, dear, and had all your pre-wedding pictures taken without one," Grams said. "But I thought surely you would like to wear this one for the ceremony. It's your mother's veil. It's not quite as white as it was forty-two years ago, but…" Grams swallowed her tears. "You look like your mother. She was a lovely woman. I know she would be so pleased if you wore her veil today."

  Oh, Grams, don't do this to me. You have no idea how difficult today will be for me. And for so many reasons. I'm marrying a man I've loved since I was just a kid, but he doesn't love me and this marriage is nothing more than part of an elaborate scheme to catch a madman. And then there's that madman—he's still out there, without his hired killer to do his dirty work. She knew that Hunter expected her secret admirer to make his move at the wedding, to expose himself in a fit of rage and jealousy.

  "May I help you put this on?" Grams asked.

  What could she say other than, "Yes, of course."

  After Manda removed her headband, Grams held up the large, beaded headpiece to which the veil was attached. Manda had seen her parents' wedding pictures and her mother had looked like a princess in her elaborate gown and veil. While Grams helped her station the headpiece and veil just right, Gwen rushed into the room carrying Mand
a's bouquet. A lush arrangement of cream roses, pale pink tulips, white French lilac, yellow narcissus, hyacinth and white irises, tied together with white satin ribbon.

  "You left your bouquet downstairs," Gwen said.

  "Thank you for bringing it upstairs to me." Manda had chosen the floral arrangement herself, one of the few things she had personally selected for the wedding. It had been so much easier to allow Grams and Gwen and Claire to take care of all the details.

  "I start down the stairs in five minutes." Gwen wore a simple, floor-length, pale pink gown and looked every inch the elegant wife of a wealthy lawyer. Holding her own bouquet of pink tulips and cream roses in one hand, she handed Manda the bridal bouquet. "Grams, don't you think you should head downstairs so you can take your place?"

  "I may be seventy-seven years old, Gwen, but I'm perfectly capable of getting down the stairs in less than five minutes." Grams kissed Manda on both cheeks. "You're a beautiful bride. Be happy, my dearest child."

  Manda hugged Grams, who quickly wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes and marched out of the room, shoulders back and head held high. Forever the regal grande dame.

  "You're a brave woman," Gwen said the minute Grams was out of earshot. "I wouldn't have the nerve to go through with the wedding, not if my fiancé had been nearly killed last night."

  "Hunter refuses to allow some maniac to stop us from getting married," Manda said. "If I'm brave, if I'm daring, then I owe my newfound courage to him."

  "You've finally gotten what you want, haven't you?" Gwen glared at Manda. "You may actually get married this time, but I'm wondering how long it will be before you're a widow."

  Manda barely stifled a gasp. Why should she be surprised by her sister-in-law's brutal honesty? It wasn't as if she believed that Gwen actually cared for her, as a sister or as a friend. Whatever friendship they had once shared had ended when Rodney Austin fell in love with Manda. Over the years, Gwen had simply faked affection for Manda in front of others and had maintained an icy indifference to her in private.

  "Gwen, you're a heartless bitch and I hope one of these days my brother realizes that he can do a lot better than you."