Please Say I Do

by Karen Toller Whittenburg

  Keeping Hallie’s identity under wraps and her reputation as pristine and pure as driven snow was turning out to be a challenge. But he wasn’t going to let Babs discover any excuse to fire Hallie. She was his one solid link to the information he needed to sabotage Saturday’s wedding, and come hell or hurricane, Rik was going to stop Stephanie from marrying Jack, even if he had to blackmail Hallie into helping him do it. He wasn’t going to let himself get distracted. No matter how great she looked dressed. No matter how much concentration it took to forget how great she looked undressed, too. He had a mission.

  He had a moral obligation.

  He had to persuade “Sheena” to come out of the bathroom….

  Chapter Five

  Hallie bolstered her courage with the thought that she had something to wear and she looked damn good in it—no matter what Rik thought. Okay, he’d said in that annoying, pseudoreassuring tone. You look okay. As if she had chicken pox or measles or some other rash and that was his polite way of saying she looked like hell, but she’d get over it eventually. He could have said she looked presentable. Or pale. Or positively awful.

  But okay? That was apathy, pure and simple.

  It had been a long night She was having a difficult awakening this morning. There was a roaring inside her brain that resembled the sound of a half-dozen Mack trucks playing dueling engines. The least Rik could have done was offer her a compliment No matter how insincere. She needed confidence, words like professional, pretty, even passable, would have gone a long way toward mollifying her insecurities. She needed selfconfidence, not apathy. She needed to know that he’d looked at her naked body and felt something akin to attraction. Even if it was only because she was the nearest female. Even if it was merely a fleeting thought

  Checking her appearance one more time in the bathroom mirror, Hallie frowned. Six years. Seventy-two months since Brad had turned his back and walked out on her, ending their short-lived marriage and taking every ounce of her self-esteem with him. Six years, and she was still looking for male approval. Seventy-two months of rebuilding her self-confidence, and still when a man saw her naked she reverted to that needy twentytwo-year-old she’d been on her wedding day.

  Well, to hell with men and their opinions. No matter what she was wearing, she was still the Bernhardt of Bernhardt Bridal of Boston. With a final glance in the mirror, she wrinkled her nose and said, “So there.”

  Turning, she jerked open the door and announced, “Rule number one. Whatever happened last night didn’t happen. Rule number two. No matter what condition I’m in, you are not to remove any article of my clothing. Rule number three. I don’t know what rule number three is, but when I think of something, you’ll be the first to know.”

  Rik greeted her announcement with impassive silence, and when she peeked around the bathroom door into the room, she realized the reason. He was gone. Which was just as well. She only wished he could have left the room service tray and a little more breakfast. If hangovers made her hungry—and apparently they did— she had one more reason never to repeat last night’s fiasco.

  Outside the window, the wind thrashed the palm trees like a mad teamster whipping his mules. Her dress had blown away long ago, but her bra still flew, high and haughty, over the terrace. She recognized yesterday’s panty hose, plastered like a nylon suntan to the windowpane. Hallie couldn’t decide what bothered her more…the undignified sprawl of the panty hose on the glass or the realization that the wind was strong enough to hold the nearly weightless nylons in place. Probably had something to do with G forces and wind velocity or some other equally inexplicable weather science, she decided. Nothing for her to worry about Just a passing glance from a hurricane that was far, far out to sea. It would be long gone before Saturday’s wedding. Barely even a memory by then.

  Now the only thing standing between her and a completely professional demeanor was the knowledge that her underwear was billowing like the Jolly Roger over the Paradise Bay Honeymoon Hotel. So all she had to do was step out onto the little balcony, peel the panty hose off the window, and grab hold of that silly brassiere….

  THERE WAS NO SIGN of Hallie when Rik entered room 1413. He set the peace offerings—orange juice in a plastic cup, V8 vegetable juice in a single-serving can, a bag of pretzels and something called VitaBar, the nutritious equivalent of a balanced meal!—on the table next to the ravaged remains of breakfast The vending machine at the end of the hall was a far cry from the room service meal he and Dan had demolished, but at least Hallie could have a selection from each of the four basic food groups.

  A low, keening wail turned his gaze to the window and he promptly forgot sensible eating habits. What in the hell was she doing out there, he wondered as he approached the long plate-glass windows and Hallie, who was stuck to the glass like a two-toned, poppy red and pale pink pressed flower. With her back to the room, her arms extended, her palms flattened snaillike against the window, she looked uncomfortably in need of rescue.

  The wind blasted him in the face the moment he slid open the glass door, and the salty, humid smell of sea spray stung his lips and nostrils, clinging to him like sand to wet skin. Wherever Hurricane Bonnie was at the moment, she was too damn close to shore. “Hello,” he yelled over the rush of wind and the roar of agitated ocean. “Enjoying a breath of fresh air, are we?”

  Hallie’s hazel eyes rolled sideways in the briefest of glances, but otherwise she didn’t move a muscle. “I…came…put…to…get…my…clothes.” Her voice reached him despite the wind. “I…can’t…move.”

  “Sure you can,” he yelled. “The wind is rough, but it isn’t that bad.”

  “Not…the…wind.” She cut her eyes in his direction again. “Look.”

  He followed her gaze to the flailing palm fronds of the nearest trees. Beyond the palms, there was an expanse of gray and grumpy sky and an even grayer and grumpier ocean. She was scared, he realized. Scared because she was standing on a thin layer of concrete and steel overlooking a pretty impressive display of Mother Nature in a very bad mood. He somehow didn’t think Hallie would feel one iota less uncomfortable, though, if the sky was as clear as a bell and the Pacific as calm as a slice of bologna. “Take my hand,” he said, inching nearer. “I won’t let you fall.”

  “I’m…not…moving.”

  “Okay. We’ll just stand here and enjoy the view. It’s magnificent, isn’t it?”

  “This is no…time…for jokes.”

  “You don’t find this view exhilarating?”

  “Please. Don’t mention…the view.”

  The tight line around her lips got even whiter and he was torn between feeling sorry for her discomfort and irrationally annoyed by it. “What possessed you to come out here if you’re so afraid of heights?”

  “I didn’t like…my panty hose to be displayed…like some grotesque…piece of artwork.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “And I’m not afraid of…heights. The view is…just…intimidating, that’s all.”

  “Then let’s go. inside.” “l cant.”

  “Mind over matter, Hallie.” He reached her hand and peeled it off the glass. “Come with me.”

  She shook her head.

  “Are you planning to spend the rest of your life out here?” He tugged impatiently on her hand. “Come on.

  “Not until my…underwear…is off…that palm branch.”

  Rik narrowed his gaze, on her, wondering if he could possibly have heard her correctly. “What did you say?”

  She turned her head, keeping it steady by pressing back against the window. “I said,” she repeated, “I’m not going inside until I get that—” she briefly raised and lowered her index finger to point at the bra “—unhooked.”

  “Let me get this straight. You’re intimidated to the point of paralysis by this particular view of the ocean. But you won’t go inside until you’ve rescued your underwear?”

  “I don’t consider it a rescue.” She turned her head in his direction again. “It’s a matter of principl
e.”

  “The principle of insanity?”

  “Look, go inside if you want I’m going to make a grab for it.”

  Rik looked from her to the dangling strap of the peach-colored bra. “You can’t reach it,” he said. “Not even if you stood on the balcony rail and held on with your toes. Not a wise course of action on a windless day, much less in a hurricane.”

  “I could reach it if I had a really long coat hanger,” she said. “Would you get some for me from the closet?”

  “No. Because you’re not going to risk your life for a scrap of polyester, principle or not If you don’t like the thought of wearing swimsuits under your clothes, I’ll borrow something for you from Earlette or Stephanie’s sister, Bentley. Or my sister, for that matter. But you’re not going out on a limb to get that bra. The wind is going to rip it off of there eventually, anyway, and you won’t have to look at it after that.”

  Her gaze turned from him to the lingerie on the tree branch and she pursed her lips. “The wind ripping it off is what bothers me. It’s bad enough knowing it’s dangling outside my hotel room. The thought of it dropping in on someone else’s balcony is more than I can stand. So I’m going to get it down…one way or another.”

  Rik frowned at her underwear. He frowned at her. And then he did the only thing he could under the circumstances. He hauled her into his arms and let the wind tumble them backward onto the hotel-room floor.

  He hit the floor and rolled, pulling Hallie with him and landing, with some degree of intention, on top of her. Bracing his weight on his arms, he looked down into her wide eyes and grinned. “That was fun. Want to do it again?”

  “There was no call to act like a caveman.” Hallie blinked rapidly, trying to bring his face into focus. “I wasn’t going to leap off the balcony, you know.”

  “No, you were going to fall off.” Rik discovered a scar on the smooth, creamy-colored slope of her cheek, just below her right eye. A tiny mark, barely noticeable except for the lighter shade of her skin there. He touched it, exploring. “What happened?”

  “What do you mean what happened?” She moved her head away from his fingertip. “You went for the gold medal in the team tumbling event.”

  “No, how did you get this scar?”

  Her hand moved to her cheek and she brushed the mark with her knuckle. A shadow darkened her hazel eyes. “Oh, that. I don’t remember.”

  He didn’t know why she lied about it, or how he knew for certain that she had, but the little scar bothered her still. And for no good reason, it bothered him, too. “You couldn’t have reached the bra,” he said reasonably. “I rescued you from certain disaster for the second time.”

  The shadow vanished and he allowed himself to relax and enjoy the soft, feminine feel of her body under his. If he wasn’t a one-woman kind of guy and if his mind wasn’t already set on Stephanie, he might entertain some very lustful thoughts right about now.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she said.

  “Like what?”

  “Like that. Like you expect me to dedicate the rest of my natural life to you in gratitude for being rescued.”

  “I don’t expect anything of the sort, although gratitude is seriously underexpressed in this country, in my opinion. Besides, you’re only guessing at my expression.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because you’re not wearing your glasses and you can’t see up close without them.”

  “Maybe I’m wearing contacts.”

  “You don’t own a pair of contacts because the saline solution they’re washed in irritates your eyes and, even if you did own a pair, they’d be tucked in a zippered bag inside the plastic compartment of your luggage— which is still lost—because you wouldn’t want to take a chance of having the solution spill on anything else in your suitcase.”

  “How did you know that?”

  “Lucky guess.” He realized with a twinge of surprise that he liked Hailie Bernhardt. Liked the way her forehead crinkled, and the way she widened her eyes to keep from squinting at him and the way her nose turned up just a little at the tip. He liked the idea that she had gone out on that balcony for a stupid reason, because otherwise he wouldn’t be lying on top of her enjoying the hell out of her predicament.

  She struggled to push herself upright, but since he didn’t move, she only succeeded in stirring a little mutual attraction, which he could read clearly in her expression and in the way she closed her eyes for a minute, then opened them and lifted her brows in a meaningful arch. “Do you mind?” she asked.

  “Heck, no. I’ve always liked women who wear glasses. There’s something inherently sexy about shortsighted females.”

  “That’s farsighted,” she said testily. “Not shortsighted.”

  His smile curved lazily. “My mistake.”

  “I wasn’t asking your opinion on women with glasses. I want you to move, please.”

  “Sure. I’ll even help you up, but you’ll have to promise to do something for me in return.”

  “You’re pushing your luck, Rik. I didn’t ask to be rescued. I didn’t need to be rescued. And I’m sure as hell not going to be tricked into doing something stupid like promising to kiss you in return for getting a hand up off the floor.”

  He curtailed his smile and frowned down at her, noting the belligerent line taken by her lips and the quirk of rebellion that reared its mischievous head in the back of his mind and practically demanded he kiss her now. “I was going to suggest you promise to let me get your bra down from the tree before I let you up, but now that you mention it, a kiss would be a lot less dangerous and a whole lot more desirable.”

  The response showed immediately in her eyes… awareness, attraction, apprehension and a sort of appalled excitement “I’d rather you unhooked my bra, thank you.”

  His smile was slow and good-humored. “Last night you said you wanted a kiss, and then you said you didn’t. Now you want me to forgo a kiss and put my hands on your underwear, instead. I’d almost forgotten what fickle creatures women are.”

  “You’re the one who’s making up all these options. I only want to get off the floor and out from under you.”

  “A noble gesture, but really, I’m quite comfortable as I am.”

  She tilted her head and stretched her neck, trying, he knew, to get a more focused look at him. “How long have you been away from civilization? And how soon are you going back?”

  “The Amazon is a jungle, but it isn’t entirely uncivilized. And I’m not going back. I’m staying in Hawaii. I’m starting a tour business here.”

  “In that case, you’d better get yourself a book on how to impress women, because your technique is severely out of date.”

  The curtain puffed across his shoulder as the wind blew a fine, hot mist of humidity into the room. Playtime was over, Rik thought with disappointment. He couldn’t keep teasing her like this indefinitely. But the next time Hallie offered, he just might take her up on it If only to prove that kissing was never stupid and that she wasn’t quite as immune to his nearness as she’d like for him to believe. She angled her brows an unbelievably impatient degree higher, arching them in a saucy little dare while she waited for him to make a move. Hell, he wished she hadn’t done that.

  “I don’t think much of self-help books,” he told her. “Not when hands-on training is available.”

  He saw the flicker of panic in her eyes, even though he wasn’t sure if it was apprehension or comprehension or a simple matter of unfocused vision. But it pleased him to know she realized her mistake and his intention at approximately the same second. Then he was close enough to smell the tropical fragrance that clung to her skin, close enough to feel the moist, warm rush of her breath, close enough to acknowledge that kissing Hallie might possibly hold some small danger for him, as well. Then he covered her lips in a quick and forceful kiss.

  At least he intended for it to be quick and forceful, but she tasted of island wind and ocean spray, and her shoulders were bar
e and soft to the touch of his hand, and her lips parted, ever so invitingly, under his. A pleasantly sensual blend of responses kindled inside his body and he let them have their way, turning the forceful into purposeful and the quick…

  Well, one out of two wasn’t bad, and there was no way, once the kiss had begun, he could let it end. Not right away. In fact, he could think of any number of reasons this particular kiss should continue indefinitely. The main one being that he hadn’t imagined he could enjoy kissing Hallie this much.

  Now that he thought about it, though, that was the very best reason he had to back off. Which he did, surprising himself by the strength of willpower it took to leave the warm, parted softness of her lips. Her eyelids remained closed for a moment, her lashes forming a straight, pudgy shadow against her skin. When they drifted upward and her eyes opened, he felt a funny stirring somewhere around his heart, a feeling all too close to desire and decidedly uncomfortable.

  He met her gaze with a purposely casual smile and the unbidden hope that her dazed look was a result of his kiss and not just her lack of corrective lenses.

  “I guess I should have held out for the book,” he said.

  “And the video.” She moved beneath him and he pushed to his feet, leaning down to offer her a hand up.

  An offer she ignored as she got her feet under her and stood. “If my brain wasn’t so woolly from last night’s tequila sunrise, you’d still be on the floor, in pain, and reaching the conclusion that rescues are no longer in your job description.” She dusted her hands— of him, he suspected—and moved to close the sliding glass door. The curtains settled with a final puff, and the humidity in the room rose in a stuffy and stale silence. Hands on her hips, she stared out the window at the peach-colored bra, and Rik admired her shoulders and the long, slender drape of the pareu.