Knowing she was watching, he took great delight in pulling out a pair of men’s silk boxers. Twirling them around his index finger a few times he jokingly called to her, “Here sweet, would you mind holding my towel while I get into these.”
Whitney only had a moment to squeeze her eyes shut before the damp towel landed in her lap. Well, two could play this game she decided grimly. Slowly unfolding her long legs she rose from the bed, well aware that she was anything but well covered by the sheer material of her nightgown.
Tossing the wet towel back to him she made her way slowly to the bathroom without a backward glance in Christian’s direction, knowing that his piercing black eyes were riveted to her. When she had safely closed the door between them she removed her own clothes then cracked the door open a few inches and dangled the wisp of a gown up and down for a moment before dropping it to the floor. It was closely followed by her lacy panties.
“Just what I’d expect from a lady with such high virtue,” she heard Christian say harshly from the other side of the door. But this time it was her turn to laugh. She knew she had called his bluff.
Hearing no further comments Whitney set about finishing her morning routine. When she was dressed she opened the door to find Christian gone so she descended the stairs and made her way into the dining room. The guests had already eaten as it was well after ten a.m. but she found donuts and juice still sitting on the antique serving buffet and helped herself. She was desperate to see Stephan. She had to tell him that Christian had returned and was making unreasonable demands regarding her place at the inn. It went without saying that the nature of those demands would have to remain a secret. She could already picture the wounded look that would appear in Stephan’s soft blue eyes if he were to find out that she had slept in the same bed with Christian.
Then there was Christian who needed to be dealt with. She couldn’t allow him to blackmail his way into her bed again. First things first though.
Checking with both Bette and Hannah to go over the day’s business before heading to town, Whitney kept a wary eye out for Christian, hoping she wouldn’t run into him. It was going to be hard enough to tell Stephan that the man responsible for breaking her heart was back. He didn’t need to know that he was up to his old tricks again.
In no time she pulled into town and parked in front of Stephan’s centrally located office on Main Street. A cold wind followed her through the front door, making her shiver beneath the warmth of her hooded coat. Pushing the hood back she shook her hair free and asked Stephan’s new secretary if he was busy. The matronly woman smiled knowingly and picked up the telephone to inform her employer that a very pretty young lady was waiting to see him if he had a free moment.
The door to Stephan’s office opened almost immediately and the handsome lawyer crossed swiftly to Whitney, placing a gentle kiss on her brow in greeting.
“I was just about to call you, hon. Something’s come up that we need to discuss so why don’t you let me help you get that coat off and we’ll go talk in my office?”
“Okay. I have some things to discuss with you too.”
Whitney slipped her arms out of the sleeves of the coat as Stephan held it for her and made her way into the adjoining room, trying hard not to compare the nonthreatening pressure of Stephan’s hand against the small of her back to Christian’s fiery, demanding touch. It was impossible. Christian’s presence was still too vivid in her mind. She tried to block out last night’s stirring memories as she settled herself across from Stephan and tried to concentrate instead on what he had to tell her.
“Whitney, we’ve uncovered a problem with the sale of the inn,” Stephan began, leaning across the desk and letting his arms rest in front of him.
Turning worried eyes to his, Whitney asked, “What are you talking about? Everything went smoothly last March, you told me so yourself.”
“Well, I have to admit that I didn’t notice it at the time but it seems you signed the paperwork incorrectly.” He elaborated to ease the question registered on her face. “You didn’t use your own name. Was there some reason you used the name Lane McLaughlin? Who is she?”
Oh my God! Whitney stared horrified at the piece of paper Stephan had produced and placed before her. There, in her own handwriting was the signature she was so accustomed to producing. Autographs, billings, checks, everything required that she sign as Lane McLaughlin and out of habit she had signed the most important document of her life the same way. The evidence jumped out at her from the bottom edge of the paper and there, boldly scrawled next to it, was Christian’s name.
But Christian had accused her of purchasing the inn out of spite. If he had seen Lane McLaughlin’s name on the sales contract why wasn’t he angry at her instead? Whitney could understand that given the way he felt about her profession. But he wasn’t. He blamed Whitney for keeping what was his. She pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to sort out the macabre implications of her mistake. Nothing made any sense and her mind was in a whirl trying to sort it all out.
“What does this mean?” she faltered, afraid she already knew the answer to the question.
“It means that the sale isn’t legally binding. And you still haven’t told me who Lane McLaughlin is. I saw ‘Lane’ on the signature line and assumed that you had signed it correctly. The signature resembled the name on the mortgage although it was hard to distinguish anything other than the word Lane. Since we had notarized the document the county registrar went ahead and processed it. My secretary caught the error by chance yesterday when she noticed that the name on the mortgage and the name you signed were not the same.” Stephan leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs and waited patiently for an answer.
“I’ve worked for her for some time but I’ve been out of touch lately,” Whitney replied evasively, hoping he wouldn’t ask why someone with her capital would need to work at all. “I had cause to sign papers for her in her absence in the past and I guess I was so excited about finalizing the sale that I didn’t realize I had reverted to old habits. Can we fix it without bothering Mr. Dade?”
Please, God, let Stephan say yes!
“Actually, no.” Whitney’s heart sank, knowing that word of this would give Christian all the ammunition he needed to send her packing. If Stephan and Christian were to meet her fate would be sealed. “We’ll need to have the paperwork redone and obtain correct signatures on the new documents, both yours and his.”
At her crestfallen look Stephan got up and came around to her. He stood behind the chair and laid his hands on her shoulders, kneading the stress-tightened muscles in an attempt to reassure her.
“There’s no hurry. I received word that I need to leave immediately, today as a matter-of-fact, for a quick trip home to Missouri to see to a family emergency. I won’t be back for about two weeks and that should still leave us time to contact Christian and get this all straightened out before the anniversary of the sale on the fifteenth. We want to make sure all our t’s are crossed and i’s are dotted on this deal before we take the next legal step. When the year is up Christian might contest the sale and we don’t want any slip-ups.”
“Might?” Whitney repeated weakly, still trying to grasp just how close she was to losing the only thing she had ever possessed of real value. But Stephan had said he would contact Christian when he returned, hadn’t he? That must mean that he didn’t know Christian had returned last night. Whitney felt a surge of hope. If she could just keep the two of them apart until Stephan left town she would have two weeks to form some sort of strategy.
“When do you need to leave?” she asked Stephan. Genuine concern over his family emergency masked the underlying feelings of apprehension gripping her.
“I need to catch a flight out of Tacoma by two o’clock so I need to swing by home and pack a few things,” Stephan answered, sliding his hands up into Whitney’s dark mass of hair. It would be hard to leave her, even for such a short time.
“I’ll drive you,” Whitney told him impulsive
ly, wanting to make sure that Stephan made it out of town before running into Christian. “Just give me a moment to call Hannah and tell her I’ve changed my plans and we can be on our way, okay?”
“Well, it would be nice not to have to leave my car at the airport all that time. And it means I’ll get to see you the minute I get back since someone’s going to have to pick me up,” Stephan said as he pulled her chair around to face him.
Whitney laughed. “Of course I’ll come and get you. I can’t leave a handsome thing like you sitting in an airport waiting room alone, all lonely and defenseless against those beautiful, single stewardesses, now could I?”
Taking her teasing as encouragement Stephan leaned forward and kissed her, a gentle promise that his feelings would never change so easily. The pressure of the kiss melted away as soon as Stephan’s lips left hers and Whitney was left longing for more. Longing for stormy kisses from a black-eyed devil who could send her senses reeling. She was saved from remembering more when Stephan reached for her coat and courteously held it for her as she slipped her arms into the sleeves.
“Come on then, hon. If I’m going to catch that plane we’d best get moving.” He smiled easily, the corners of his warm, cerulean eyes crinkling as he did so. Whitney smiled back, dreaming of the day when Christian would be out of her life forever and she could come to this man unhampered and ready to love him and only him.
As she prepared to follow Stephan’s car around the corner Whitney glanced in the rearview mirror and saw a familiar black Bronco pulling into the parking space she had just vacated.
Whitney worried the secretary might tell Christian where Stephan had gone and they would be intercepted before they could leave town. Her worries were groundless however, because in the next few minutes Christian was informed that Stephan would be out-of-town for a short period of time but had plans to contact him upon his arrival. Since Christian was back in Reflection Ridge he could certainly expect a call. Emerging from the office, Christian thrust his hands into the pockets of his heavy sheepskin jacket and began to walk the streets he had grown up on, looking for an answer to the dilemma facing him.
He wanted his life back, his property, his livelihood. The trouble was, he also wanted Whitney Lane so badly he could taste it. The thought of her gorgeous body pressed intimately along his as she had slept, her firm little bottom tucked tightly against his hips, her full, ripe breasts beneath his hand as he shamelessly caressed them while she slumbered… She was enough to make a man lose his mind. One thing was certain, she was as distracting as hell.
And the change in her personality. Who would have guessed that beneath the shy, prim exterior of the woman he had met in New York there beat the heart of a wanton tigress. He loved the way her body responded so passionately to each touch, each caress, more than any other woman he had known. She made him abandon his good intentions with one look from her guileless green eyes. He needed her out of his life as badly as he needed her in his bed.
But she had said that she wouldn’t give herself to any man other than her husband, hadn’t she? Lord, those shackles would almost be worth the price. Suddenly an idea came to him and Christian stopped walking long enough to allow the concept to take shape. If he were to convince Whitney to marry him, half of the ownership in the inn would revert back to him as a matter of joint ownership. And by keeping the relationship celibate until after the fifteenth he would be able to have the marriage annulled, eliminating her ability to say he had not reclaimed his property by the agreed upon date. It would then be up to a district judge to decide ownership of the property after the annulment proceedings, whether it should belong wholly to the heir and lifelong resident, or to the outsider whose interest equaled a single year.
He knew it was a weak straw but he’d grasp anything to save his home. He didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of convincing Whitney to let him bankroll the amount he was short. She would use that information as the impetus she needed to force him out of his home forever. And there wasn’t time to sweet-talk her, not with less than three weeks remaining until the deadline. She’d never believe that he was capable of such a dramatic change of heart, not after the things he had said and done.
The way he saw it there was only one flaw to the plan and it could prove to be the weak link that would seal his doom. Everything hinged on his ability to keep the marriage an abstinent coexistence. He wasn’t sure he could muster the level of self-control that would be required once he convinced Whitney to go through with the plan.
And there was another problem. How to insure that the only answer she could give was yes. She had nothing to lose by refusing him, did she? Or did she? It seemed she was hell-bent on saving her precious reputation. For whom? The thought that she cared for another man twisted his gut but he couldn’t afford to care. Everything he held dear was on the line now. A plan for forcing her hand began to emerge at the same time the cold forced him to return to the truck.
As he drove home, Christian formulated the words that would be necessary to put his last chance effort into place. For him to have the advantage when they went to court it had to appear to be Whitney’s fault the marriage had remained unconsummated and by damn, he would make sure it was!
“But you love her!”
Well, sometimes in this life you just don’t get everything you want.
* * * * *
With a sense of relief Whitney returned to the inn after seeing Stephan safely boarded on the plane in Tacoma. Luckily they had avoided Christian and the disastrous situation that would have ensued if they hadn’t.
As the miles slipped past, Whitney used the time to sort out the implications of her mistake. She still couldn’t believe she had committed such a horrible error. If Christian found out, she would be at his mercy, an attribute she seriously doubted he possessed in any great quantity. There had to be a way out of this. Relaxing her grip on the steering wheel, Whitney forced herself to concentrate on her options.
The way she saw it she had three choices, none of which seemed particularly promising. She could confess to Stephan and Christian that she was also Lane McLaughlin and hope that Stephan could prove that the sale was still legally binding. Or, she could explain the situation to Christian as she had to Stephan and hope that there was a small spark of decency within him that would prompt him to allow the mistake to be corrected honorably before they sat down to negotiate the terms of the agreement on the upcoming anniversary. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t convince herself that he would need long to think that one over.
Or finally, Whitney thought disparagingly, she could leave. Let Christian have back the peaceful haven that had brought her so much happiness and hope. Let him retain possession of his property, knowing that to him that was probably all it was. Just property, a commodity to be bargained with. It couldn’t possibly mean to him what it had come to mean to her. “This place has changed my life completely,” Whitney thought to herself. How could she let it go without a fight? Wasn’t that the legacy she drew from these mountains? Hadn’t she found the ability to stand up for herself in the months she had been here, to fend off those who sought to hurt her rather than run away, cowering, when trouble came looking for her?
She had two weeks to figure out a solution, didn’t she? Two weeks to discover a way she could avoid giving into Christian and his unreasonable demands. And who knew? Perhaps an answer to the bleak picture would come to her today, or tomorrow. She had to recognize opportunity when she saw it and act accordingly. And she would. Her peace of mind depended on it.
Chapter Ten
Christian was waiting for her when she returned. Thin afternoon shadows filtered into the sitting room where he was brazenly stretched out on the couch. As Whitney came through the door and caught sight of him he sat up and let his forearms rest on his knees while he regarded her with bold, black eyes. The test of endurance begins, he thought grimly to himself, taking in the sight Whitney presented, her cheeks flushed with cold and her brilliant gree
n eyes frosted over likewise.
“Why are you still here?” Whitney demanded without preliminaries.
“Is that any way to greet me after we’ve been so close?” Christian countered lazily, emphasizing the word close and grinning as he watched for her reaction. It was immediately forthcoming.
“Get out! Get out! Get out!” Whitney screamed. “I’ve had enough of your insinuations and your pawing at me! And I’ve especially had enough of seeing your face everywhere I look!”
“If I recall correctly, it wasn’t my face you were looking at this morning, sweetheart.”
She blushed despite her anger, hating the way he had of making endearments sound anything but loving.
“Did you have something important you wanted to say, or were you just bored and decided it would be fun to torment me a little before supper?” she answered scathingly, refusing to move away from the open doorway.
“I do. But now that you mention it, the idea of working up an appetite with you doesn’t sound half bad.” At the stabbing glare he received for his comment he sat back, making himself more comfortable and inferring he had absolutely no intention of making use of the door Whitney stubbornly held open for him.
“No? Well, then let’s get down to business. Sit down.” His deep voice suddenly turned deathly serious and Whitney suddenly had a feeling of impending trepidation as she slowly closed the door and sank into the nearest chair. He couldn’t already know, could he?
“What are you talking about now, Christian?” she risked asking.
“I think I’ve found a solution to our little problem.” He offered her conspiratorial smile before continuing. Whitney’s heart raced as she waited for him to announce that he knew the sale was nullified but instead he surprised her by saying, “Obviously neither of us has any intention of leaving Mountain Meadow Inn without a fight, correct?”
Don’t Call Me Sweetheart Page 14