His Stolen Bride (Chicago Sons)

by Barbara Dunlop

  “It’s a kiss,” he said. “It’s only a kiss. We’ve done it before.”

  He gave her a second to protest.

  She didn’t.

  So he brought his lips to hers.

  They were as sweet as he’d remembered, hot and tantalizing. Desire immediately registered in his brain. Passion lit his hormones, while every cell jumped to attention. His hand tightened at the small of her back, drawing her against him.

  He stretched his legs out, stretched hers out, and delved into the depths of her mouth. She kissed him in return. Her slight body sank into the soft bed.

  Her robe gaped loose, and he knew it would take nothing, nothing at all to untie the sash, spread it wide, feast his gaze on her gorgeous body. But he held back, kissing her neck.

  “Jackson,” she groaned.

  He loved the sound of his name coming from her lips. Her tone breathless.

  “We should stop,” she said. There was a no-nonsense edge to her voice now and he told himself to pull away.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, sounding as if she was.

  “My fault,” he readily admitted.

  “I keep kissing you back.”

  “I keep starting it.”

  “These are extraordinary circumstances.”

  He summoned the strength and put a few inches between them. His eyes focused on her. “You are so unbelievably beautiful.”

  That got him a smile, and he felt it resonate through his heart.

  “How does he do it?” He had to ask. “How does a man have you and even look at another woman?”

  Her smile grew a little wider. “I can ask him.”

  “You should ask him. Better yet, I’ll ask him. No, I’ll tell him. I’ll tell him he lost you, and I got you, and I’m sure going to keep you.”

  “While you’re still pretending to be my ex-boyfriend?” she joked.

  “What?” It took a second for her meaning to register. “Yeah. Right. That’s what I meant.”

  She sobered. “And then this will all be over.”

  Jackson wasn’t ready to say that.

  “I should be sad,” she said. “I mean, I am sad. But I should be sadder. I should be devastated. This mess is my life.”

  “You’ll be fine,” he said.

  What he wanted to say was that they’d fix her life. He’d help her fix her life. He was sticking around until everything was settled, until he understood exactly what was going on with the diamond mine and anything else that might hurt her. He was staying until she was completely safe from Vern and all of the Gerhards.

  * * *

  They slept apart. And in the morning, Jackson drove her to the shopping mall parking lot three miles from the Gerhard mansion.

  “I’d rather come with you,” he said as he passed under the colorful flags that marked the main entrance.

  “He’s not going to try anything with Ellie there.” Crista was nervous, but she wasn’t afraid.

  Vern would have no choice but to accept her decision. He wasn’t going to be happy. But surely at some level he would understand. His relationship with Gracie Stolt might not be a full-blown affair, but they were obviously intimate. Vern needed to do as much thinking about his future as Crista did about her own.

  “He lit a hotel on fire.” There was a hard edge to Jackson’s voice.

  “They haven’t proven that yet.”

  “I have all the proof I need. There they are.” Jackson angled the SUV across a block of empty parking spots toward a silver sedan.

  “Whose car?” she asked, knowing Ellie drove a blue hatchback.

  “It’s a company car. Mac wouldn’t risk taking Ellie back to her apartment for her car.”

  “They’ve been together all night.”

  “It’s possible,” said Jackson. “I didn’t ask.”

  “So, you didn’t assign him to protect her.” For the hundredth time, Crista tried to figure out Jackson’s motivation for sticking around.

  “I didn’t need to.”

  She tried to read his expression.

  He seemed to sense her stare and glanced over. “What?”

  “Why are you still here?”

  He didn’t miss a beat. “You’ve heard of pro bono?”

  “That’s for lawyers.”

  “It’s for private detectives, too.”

  She didn’t buy it, but let the issue drop for now.

  He pulled into the spot close to Mac and Ellie.

  “You know you don’t have to break it off in person,” he said.

  “I want to do it in person. I want to see his expression. And it’s the only way it’ll feel final to me.”

  “I can come with you.”

  “Ellie’s coming with me. Vern likes Ellie.”

  Jackson clenched his jaw. After a moment’s pause he passed a phone to Crista. “I’m speed dial one. Call me if anything looks suspicious.”

  “Suspicious how?” She couldn’t help but think he was used to higher stakes and higher drama than this. She was breaking off an engagement, not spying on a foreign government.

  “You’ll know it if it happens,” he said.

  She doubted that.

  He picked up the phone, waiting for her to take it in her hand. “If I don’t hear from you fifteen minutes after you’re inside, we’re coming in.”

  “How will you know when we’re inside?” She conjured up a silly picture of him on a hillside in camo and green face paint with a set of high-powered binoculars.

  “That phone has a very accurate GPS.”

  “You can’t storm the mansion, Jackson. They’ll arrest you.”

  “They can try,” he said.

  “You’re nuts.”

  “I’m cautious.”

  She reached for the car door handle. “We’re going to be fine.”

  He put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her from exiting. “Anything suspicious.”

  “Yes. Sure.” She would try. “I assume Ellie is getting the same instructions?”

  “Mac’s cautious, too.”

  “Okay.” Crista took a deep breath and swung open the door.

  The butterflies in her stomach had ramped up, and she told herself not to let Jackson rattle her. Yes, Vern was going to be angry. And if Manfred or Delores were there, the conversation would definitely get even more uncomfortable. But it would be over in a matter of minutes, and this would all be behind her.

  As she rose to her feet, she wiggled the diamond ring that was back on her finger, checking to make sure it was loose. When she was nervous, her hands tended to swell. The last thing she needed was to break things off and try to give back the ring only to have it get stuck on her finger.

  Mac stepped out of the passenger seat of the silver sedan. He nodded a greeting to Crista and held the door open for her.

  “Thanks,” she said as she slid onto the seat.

  Mac leaned down, looking in the open door, his gaze on Ellie. “Don’t forget.”

  “I won’t,” said Ellie.

  He gave another serious nod then pushed the door firmly shut.

  “Don’t forget what?” Crista couldn’t help but ask.

  Ellie gave a sheepish shrug. “I’m not sure. The list was pretty long.”

  Crista couldn’t help but smile. “Do you have a secret agent phone, too?”

  Ellie tapped the front pocket of her white shorts. “I’m packin’.”

  “They’ve got us hooked up to GPS.”

  “I heard.”

  “And Jackson said we have fifteen minutes before they storm the place.”

  Ellie shifted the car into Drive and glanced back to Jackson’s car as she pulled through the parking spot. “Who are those guys?”


  “I can’t figure it out. I keep asking him why he’s doing all this, and I keep getting vague answers.”

  “He’s hot,” Ellie said with a glance in her rearview mirror.

  “Jackson?”

  “Mac.”

  That got Crista’s attention. “Really?”

  “You didn’t notice?”

  “To be honest, I wasn’t paying much attention to Mac.”

  “I was.” Ellie headed for the traffic light at the parking lot exit. “But forget about me. Do you know what you’re going to say?”

  “I think so,” said Crista. She’d gone over a dozen different versions in her mind. “Did Mac tell you about the pictures?”

  “He showed them to me.”

  “He kept copies.” Crista wasn’t surprised.

  “They weren’t fakes,” said Ellie.

  “I know.”

  They completed a left turn. Traffic was light, so they’d be at the mansion in about five minutes.

  “Vern is pond scum,” said Ellie.

  “I keep going back and forth between coming out guns a-blazing or calmly asking for an explanation.”

  “Could there be any reasonable explanation?”

  “Not that I can think of.”

  “I say guns a-blazing.”

  “Either way, the result will be the same.”

  “But not as satisfying. He needs to know he hurt you.”

  “He knows that.”

  “I doubt he cares.”

  Crista hoped he cared. The Vern she’d fallen in love with would care.

  “Hit him with both barrels,” said Ellie. “If you don’t, you’ll be sorry later.”

  “I have to at least ask him what happened,” Crista countered. As far-fetched as it seemed, Vern might have something to say in his own defense.

  “We’re here,” Ellie stated unnecessarily as they turned in to the long driveway. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

  “I just want to get it over with.”

  “Then let’s do it.” Ellie stepped on the accelerator and took them briskly up the drive.

  She wheeled through the turnaround and brought the car to the curb. A security guard immediately came out through the front door, obviously intent on asking their business. But when he saw Crista, he stopped short.

  She got out of the car, pausing while Ellie came around the front bumper.

  “I’m here to see Vern,” she stated, holding her head high.

  “Of course, ma’am,” said the guard, his expression inscrutable.

  For the first time ever, Crista found herself wondering if the guard was armed. Were all of the security staff armed? It seemed likely they would be. She couldn’t even imagine what would happen if Jackson and Mac showed up.

  “We need to hurry,” she said to Ellie, trotting up the stairs. The phone in her purse suddenly felt heavy.

  She’d been in the mansion foyer hundreds of times, and she knew it well. It was octagonal with a polished marble floor and ornate pillars. A set of double doors led to a grand hallway and the curving staircase. The hallway was a popular place for guests at the Gerhards’ cocktail parties to gather and view the family art collection.

  It had never struck her as intimidating before, but rather opulent and grand. It was fit for industrialists, celebrities, even royalty.

  She heard footsteps descending the staircase. But she stayed put, not wanting to venture far from the exit. It was Jackson’s fault she was feeling so skittish. All his talk of speed-dialing him or him and Mac storming the place had her pointlessly nervous.

  Vern appeared in the doorway, coming to an abrupt halt when he spotted Ellie. He frowned, and his nostrils flared.

  “I asked Ellie to come,” said Crista.

  “I would have come anyway,” said Ellie.

  “She can wait here,” said Vern.

  “I’m staying here, too,” said Crista. “This won’t take long.”

  His brows rose with obvious incredulity. “What do you mean, it won’t take long? We have our entire future to discuss.”

  “I’ve seen the pictures, Vern.”

  “What pictures?”

  “You and Gracie.”

  He paled a shade, and she knew all the accusations were true.

  But then he regrouped and went on the attack. “Do you mean Gracie Stolt? I told you, she’s a client.”

  “She’s your mistress.” Then Crista rethought the terminology. “I mean, she would have been your mistress. If we’d gotten married.”

  Vern moved closer, his tone hardening. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I’ve seen—”

  “I don’t care what you think you’ve seen. It was obviously a misrepresentation of something. And what about you? Shacked up in a hotel with your ex-boyfriend.”

  “I wanted to be alone.”

  “Alone with him.”

  “He was helping me.”

  Ellie reached out to touch her arm. “Crista.”

  Vern stepped closer still. “You’re going to deny you slept with him?”

  Crista opened her mouth to say yes. But then she thought better of the impulse. She had no need to defend herself. “I’m here to give you back your ring.”

  Vern shook his head. “I won’t accept it. We can work this out.”

  “You just accused me of infidelity.”

  “You accused me first.”

  Anger rose inside her, and she jabbed her index finger in his direction. “You did it.” Then she pointed at her own chest. “I didn’t.”

  She grasped her ring and pulled. But as she’d feared, her fingers had swollen, and it didn’t want to come off. She pulled harder. “But I’m going to,” she said defiantly as she tugged. “I’m going out there right now to sleep with Jackson.”

  The ring suddenly popped off. It slipped from her fingers and bounced across the floor.

  They both watched it come to rest on a white tile.

  “You’re not going to do that,” said Vern.

  “You can’t stop me.”

  He reached out to grasp her arm, holding her fast.

  “Let me go!” She struggled against his grip, but he wouldn’t let her go.

  In her peripheral vision, she saw Ellie retrieve her phone.

  “Don’t,” she cried out to Ellie.

  Jackson and Mac would only make things worse. They could make things a whole lot worse.

  “Do I need to call the police?” Ellie asked Vern in a cold voice.

  Vern glared daggers at her but then released Crista’s arm.

  “We need to talk,” he said to Crista, schooling his expression, clearing the anger from his face, entreaty coming into his eyes.

  “Not today,” said Crista. She just wanted to get out of here.

  “Not ever,” said Ellie.

  “You don’t understand,” said Vern, his expression now projecting hurt and confusion.

  He suddenly looked so familiar. Her heart remembered everything they’d had together, and it ached for the loss.

  “I have to go,” she said, mortified to hear a catch in her own voice. She needed to be stronger than that.

  Then Ellie’s arm was around her, urging her to the door, picking up the tempo until they were outside. She immediately saw Jackson’s SUV pulling up the drive.

  “Are fifteen minutes up?” asked Crista, her voice now shaky. It had seemed more like three.

  “You’re going to sleep with Jackson?” Ellie asked as they hustled down the steps.

  “I was bluffing.”

  “He didn’t tell you about the hot mike?”

  “The what?”

  Mac hopped out of the passe
nger seat and jumped in to drive the silver sedan.

  “Jackson and Mac could hear every word we said. Me threatening to call the police was the secret signal.”

  “There was a secret signal?”

  “Go,” said Ellie, pushing her toward the open door of the SUV.

  Afraid to look back, Crista hopped inside and slammed the door shut. Jackson peeled away.

  * * *

  Jackson was relieved to have her back. He was stupidly giddy with relief. When Ellie had uttered the distress phrase, his heart had lodged in his throat. A dozen dire scenarios flashed through his mind as they sped up the driveway.

  “You’re okay?” He felt the need to confirm as they made it to the road.

  “Ticked off,” she said, fastening her seat belt.

  “He didn’t hurt you?”

  “He grabbed me, but he let me go. His ring’s on the floor of the foyer.”

  “Good,” said Jackson with clipped satisfaction.

  She shifted in the seat, angling toward him. “You bugged Ellie’s phone?”

  “We thought it was safest.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It would have made you nervous.”

  “I was already nervous.”

  “Yes.” That had been his point. “It was bad enough for you without knowing you had a bigger audience.”

  “That was underhanded.”

  “Maybe.”

  “It was a personal conversation.”

  “You mean the part where you announced your intention to sleep with me?”

  “That was a bluff.”

  It was too tempting not to tease her. “I’m very disappointed to hear that.”

  She moaned in obvious embarrassment. “Mac heard me say it, didn’t he?”

  “He did.”

  “Call him. Tell him I was joking.”

  “He knows you were joking.”

  “No, he doesn’t. He’s going to think there’s something going on between us.”

  Jackson glanced her way. “There’s not?”

  “No, there’s not. Well, not that. Not…” She seemed to search for words. “I just broke up with my fiancé. I was minutes from getting married on Saturday.” The pitch of her voice rose. “There can’t be anything between us.”

  “Okay,” said Jackson. “I’ll play along.”

  “I’m not asking you to play along. I’m asking you to accept the reality of the situation.”