Blogger Bundle Volume VIII: SBTB's Harlequins That Hooked You

by Jennifer Crusie

  The ringing telephone jarred Annie from the most restful sleep she’d had in ages. With her eyes still closed, she groped across the top of the nightstand, searching for the phone. She accidently knocked the receiver off the hook. Damn! She opened her eyes, scooted toward the edge of the bed, picked up the receiver and put it to her ear.

  “Hello?” Her voice was groggy.

  “Ms. Harden?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Lieutenant McCullough.”

  Annie’s eyes flew open. She shot straight up in bed, sending the sheet and blanket to her waist. Suddenly realizing she was naked, she dragged the sheet up far enough to cover her breasts.

  “Yes, Lieutenant, what can I do for you?”

  She glanced over at Dane, who had just opened his eyes and was staring at her.

  “Ms. Harden, I’m afraid we’ve got some really bad news for you.”

  Annie’s heart ached with the foreknowledge of what he was going to tell her. “It’s Halley, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, ma’am. The body of a woman fitting Ms. Robinson’s description was pulled out of Mobile Bay early this morning. The Mobile police department has already gotten in touch with her family. Her boyfriend, Mr. Boyd, identified the body about thirty minutes ago.”

  “H-how was she…” Tears lodged in Annie’s throat. She looked at Dane through a haze of moisture.

  Dane prized the phone from her hand and spoke to McCullough. “How was Ms. Robinson killed?” he asked.

  Annie covered her face with her hands as tears racked her body. She’d known all along, deep down inside, that Halley was dead, but she had clung to the possibility that her young protégée had just been kidnapped and the police would find her alive. But now there was no hope. Clay Boyd had identified Halley’s body.

  “Yeah, I know. Thanks for calling,” Dane said, then placed the receiver back on the telephone base. He turned and pulled Annie into his arms. He stroked her hair away from her cheek and tilted her damp face up so that she had to look at him. “Ah, Annie, honey, you knew.”

  She nodded. “Why didn’t I just let her stay in that safe little world her parents had given her? Why did I have to encourage her to follow in my footsteps and break free?” Tears streamed down Annie’s face.

  Dane caressed her cheek. “Don’t do this to yourself. You aren’t to blame for Halley Robinson’s death. If she hadn’t wanted a different kind of life than the one her parents offered her, she wouldn’t have taken a job on your magazine and—”

  “I want to find the person responsible!” Annie jerked away from Dane, her eyes afire with anger and determination. “I want them punished for what they did. I want…”

  “We’ll find whoever was behind Halley’s murder. I promise.”

  “How—how was she killed?” Annie asked.

  “Honey, you don’t—”

  “Tell me!”

  “He cut her throat.”

  “Oh, God!” Annie realized that Halley’s killer would have done the same thing to her if she hadn’t escaped and if Dane hadn’t helped her.

  She saw the look of concern and affection in Dane’s eyes and knew he longed to comfort her. She understood that it was in his nature to care for others, especially the women in his life, whether they were friends, clients or lovers. An odd sensation zinged up Annie’s spine. Complete realization of just how intimate they were dawned on her. And memories of the time they had spent making love in the hours before dawn came back to her all at once.

  As if reading her thoughts, Dane said, “We lost our heads, didn’t we?” He ran his gaze over her face, down her throat, and stopped on her uncovered breasts.

  Warmth spread through her as she looked at Dane and remembered that he was naked under the sheet. “I’ve been on the pill for years, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she blurted. “The doctor put me on them to regulate my irregular period. I’m not promiscuous, or anything. I haven’t had sex with anyone since…in years and years. So, you don’t have to worry about other stuff. And—”

  Dane gently cupped his palms around her face. “Shh…I’m not worried about anything, except taking care of you. My first priority is to keep you safe, and I’m afraid that when we made love, I didn’t do that. I’m sorry, honey.”

  She closed her eyes, wanting to block out the sight of him. That tender, loving look. She bit down on her lower lip, then felt his lips on hers. Her eyelids flew open. He ended the gentle kiss and released his hold on her face.

  “By becoming your lover, I’ve jeopardized my effectiveness as your bodyguard,” he told her. “You realize that, don’t you? This case has become personal because I have feelings for you. Instead of thinking logically, I might let my emotions make decisions for me.”

  “We couldn’t help ourselves,” Annie admitted. “It has never been like that for me. I have never lost control.”

  “I’ve never lost control so completely, either. It’s almost frightening to think someone else has that much power over you.” Dane’s gaze met hers and locked, the truth of what had happened between them exchanged in that one long look.

  “We probably got it out of our systems, didn’t we?” Annie forced a fragile smile. “I mean, you can’t feel like that about someone all the time. If you did…”

  “It was great. Fantastic. The best either of us has ever had, but it can’t go any further.” Dane’s eyes narrowed as a frown wrinkled his brow and tensed his jaw. “That is what you’re saying, isn’t it?”

  Annie nodded. “Yes, that’s… We’ve only known each other a few days. And what we do know is that you’re the wrong type of man for me and I’m the exact opposite of what you find appealing in a woman.”

  “So, what happened between us this morning was a two-time thing, not to be repeated. Right?”

  “Right!”

  “From now on, our relationship is strictly business,” Dane said. “I’m your bodyguard and you’re my client.”

  “We just have to forget about our making love.”

  “Sure. Just pretend it never happened.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  They both knew they were lying to themselves. Neither of them would ever forget what had happened or how they’d felt. Even now, while they were so adamantly denying their feelings, desire stirred inside them.

  Annie tugged the blanket off the bed as she stood. She wrapped it around her and nearly tripped over the hem when she took her first step. She righted herself, lifted the blanket and smiled triumphantly at Dane.

  “I’m going to take a bath and get dressed,” she said. “I’ll stop by Dr. Lowery’s office to get my stitches checked, then I need to go over to see the Robinsons.” She wanted a long soak in a hot bath to ease the soreness out of her body, but she’d have to settle for another shower. During their rowdy lovemaking she had used muscles she’d forgotten she had. And she just hoped she hadn’t broken loose any of the stitches in her side.

  Dane got out of bed, totally at ease with his nudity. “I’ll catch a quick shower and meet you downstairs for—” he glanced at the clock on the nightstand “—brunch. I was going to say breakfast, but since it’s nearly eleven—”

  Annie’s eyes widened in disbelief when she looked at the clock. “I never sleep this late!”

  “We wore ourselves out,” he said, then picked up his jeans, stepped into them, turned around and left her bedroom.

  Most of the town turned out for Halley Robinson’s funeral, the overflow crowd gathering around outside the church. Annie wasn’t sure she could have gotten through the ordeal without Dane’s strength to lean on. Although they had kept to their agreement—that their relationship return to a professional one only—she knew that the strong emotions they’d shared nearly a week ago had formed an unbreakable bond between them. It was always there, even though they never spoke of it again or acted on the desire that neither could totally disguise.

  Dane stood at her side during the graveside ceremony that followed the elaborate service at the church
. He was the only person who understood the depth of her feelings. He was the only one to whom she had confided her guilt over helping Halley achieve her dream of independence from a family who had smothered her in the same way Annie’s family had once done her.

  The look of anguish on Mrs. Robinson’s face was nearly Annie’s undoing. Dane gripped her elbow and held her steadily on her feet as she spoke to Halley’s parents. They stared at her through bloodshot eyes, thanking her for being there, for caring about their daughter. Annie felt no anger, no hostility or blame coming from Dennis and Amelia Robinson. Only a grief almost too great to bear.

  Dane had suggested that she forego Amelia Robinson’s invitation to join the family at their home after the interment, but Annie had insisted on going.

  The Robinsons’s Colonial beige brick home in Florence held the upper echelons of local society and the atmosphere, although subdued, retained the flavor of one of Amelia’s gala parties. People shook hands, exchanged dainty little hugs and kissed the air at one another’s cheeks. Two uniformed waitresses served hors d’oeuvres and a waiter attended the bar.

  “There she is now.” Jennifer Harden waved to Annie from across the room. “Come over here, dear. Look who we have with us.”

  Dane recognized his former father-in-law, Richard Hughes, and his second wife, Gloria, whom he’d married when Lorna was twelve. Richard looked the same—thick, steel-gray hair, lean physique, movie-star-handsome face—as if time had passed him by and left him a perpetual fifty, although Dane knew the man was well over sixty. Richard Jr. was a pale carbon copy of his father, only lacking in the original’s charisma and easy charm. Dane and Dickie had never been friends, but they’d never been enemies, either.

  He had remained in contact with Richard and Gloria for a while after Lorna’s death, but it had been easier on all of them to gradually lose touch. He had missed the close relationship with Richard. They’d once been as close as father and son. Indeed he had thought of Lorna’s father as a role model—a gentleman who epitomized all that Dane admired. There had been a time when he had aspired to emulate his father-in-law’s sterling qualities as an upstanding citizen, a devoted husband and father, and a caring human being.

  Richard thrust out his hand as he grabbed Dane by the shoulder. “Dane, my boy. How good to see you.” He pumped Dane’s hand and patted his shoulder. “Terrible thing, isn’t it, poor little Halley Robinson being murdered that way? We know what her family’s going through, don’t we?” A fine mist of tears glazed Richard Hughes’s stormy gray eyes.

  When Gloria wrapped her arm around her husband, he released Dane’s hand and stepped back to his wife’s side.

  Dickie held out his hand. “Hello, Dane.”

  Dane shook his former brother-in-law’s hand. There was a weakness in Dickie’s handshake just as there was a weakness in the man himself.

  “We had no idea that Dane had once been married to your daughter, Richard,” Royce Layman said as he and Vera closed ranks around Annie. “He certainly was a godsend for our girl.” Royce gave Annie an affectionate squeeze. “He’s going to take good care of her for us until this whole nightmare is over.”

  “When did you leave the FBI?” Dickie asked. “I can’t imagine you as anything but a G-man.”

  “I’ve been with the Dundee agency for several years now.”

  Gloria Hughes reached out and took Annie’s hand in hers. “It’s unbelievable that Halley is dead and that someone is trying to harm you, too. Do you have any idea who or why?”

  “We have some theories,” Annie said, but didn’t elaborate. Dane had instructed her to trust no one and not to share information with others, even her mother.

  Your mother might accidently let something slip, Dane had told her.

  “What sort of theories?” Richard asked.

  “Just theories,” Dane answered. “Nothing worth discussing.”

  “Well, if there’s anything I or my family can do to help, just let me know,” Richard said.

  “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  An hour later, after a tearful goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Robinson, Halley’s eighteen-year-old brother and fifteen-year-old sister, Dane led Annie through the milling crowd of mourners. Just as they entered the black-and-white, marble-tiled foyer, Dane sensed someone staring at them. He glanced to the right just in time to catch a glimpse of a husky-built man with a military-style haircut, glaring at them. What caught Dane’s immediate attention was the sling in which the man’s arm rested. The moment the man realized Dane had caught him staring, he averted his gaze and maneuvered his way back through the horde.

  “Who was that?” Dane asked.

  “Who? Where?”

  “The guy with his arm in a sling,” Dane told her. “Over there, next to the lady in the wide-brimmed hat.”

  Annie searched the crowd. Her gaze rested on the man in question. “Oh, that’s Jason Webber.”

  “Exactly who is he?”

  “He’s your father-in-law’s employee,” Annie said. “Well, actually, he works for Dickie at Hughes Chemicals and Plastics. I understand that he’s been with the company for years.”

  Before Dane had a chance to react, Royce Layman came up behind them. “What’s this about Jason?” Royce asked.

  “Dane was just wondering who he is,” Annie replied.

  “Jason’s the security chief at Hughes Chemicals and Plastics. He plays golf with us sometimes when Richard and I get together,” Royce said. “Odd sort of man. A bit on the unfriendly side, but then, he’s a Yankee, you know. Came from somewhere in Illinois or Indiana years ago.”

  “Is he a friend of the Robinsons’s?” Dane asked.

  “Jason? Why, no. But he’s never far from Richard and Gloria, now that Richard is running for governor.”

  “Are you saying he acts as Richard’s bodyguard?” Annie focused her gaze on her uncle.

  “In a manner of speaking,” Royce said.

  “What happened to his arm?” Dane noticed that Jason Webber had disappeared.

  “I asked Richard about that.” Royce chuckled. “Seems he accidently shot himself while he was cleaning his rifle last week. He won’t be able to use that arm for a few more days. Good thing it’s not deer season. Jason’s quite the hunter, you know.”

  Dane grabbed Annie around the waist before her silent gasp acquired sound. “Ready to go?”

  “Uh, er, yes, I’m ready.” She waved at her uncle. “’Bye Uncle Royce. Tell Mother that I’ll call her later.”

  When they reached the sidewalk leading from the porch to the driveway, Annie halted. “Do you think Jason Webber is the man you shot at the Robinsons’s lake house?”

  Dane surveyed the area, checking to see if anyone was around who might have overheard Annie. Several people milled around on the porch, but he didn’t think they were close enough to have heard her.

  “We’ll talk in the car.” He grasped her elbow and led her out to her Navigator.

  Once belted into her seat, Annie turned to Dane. “Well?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “It could be a coincidence that Jason Webber has a gunshot wound that he acquired last week and it could be that he was staring daggers through us because he just didn’t like the way we look.”

  “Jason Webber works for Richard Hughes, and one of the two names on the last page of Halley’s notebook is Richard Hughes. She underlined it twice.”

  “Jason works for Dickie,” Dane said. “Richard Hughes Jr.”

  “Okay, I’ll agree that it’s possible the Richard Hughes in Halley’s notebook referred to the junior and not the senior Hughes. So what could Dickie and Jason Webber be trying to hide?”

  “I have no idea. But once the agency completes the search for Martin Edwards, we might have our answer.”

  Annie cooked shrimp and filet mignon on the indoor grill, while Dane prepared their salad. They sat together in the kitchen and discussed a hundred and one scenarios while they ate. They carried their after-dinner coffee into t
he den and Annie put a Stan Getz CD on the new CD player she had purchased. The music wrapped around her, got inside her and soothed her. She kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet under her when she sat on the sofa. Dane placed his coffee cup on a coaster atop the end table and sat beside her.

  “Don’t forget to call your mother,” he reminded her.

  “How often do you call your mother?”

  “Once a week,” Dane said.

  “Ever the dutiful son, aren’t you?” She grinned. “But then, what else could I expect from a true gentleman.”

  You weren’t a gentleman last week. You were a brute, who acted just as savagely as I did, she thought. She realized by the way he was looking at her that he knew what she was thinking.

  The doorbell rang. Annie jumped. Dane tensed.

  “Just sit still. I’ll get it,” he said.

  When he headed toward the foyer, she followed him. “It could be Mother stopping by, since I forgot to call her.”

  “Will you just stay here!” Dane’s voice reeked with aggravation.

  “Oh, all right.” Annie huffed, crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall at the base of the staircase.

  Dane opened the door to find a young woman holding a huge flower spray, similar to the ones that had been piled on Halley Robinson’s grave this afternoon.

  The girl smiled. “I have a delivery for Annie Harden.”

  “These are for Ms. Harden?” Dane stared at the huge floral arrangement of bloodred roses.

  “Yes, sir. There’s a card.” The woman pointed to the sealed envelope attached to the spray, which had a large satin ribbon draped across it with the words Rest In Peace emblazoned on it.

  Dane took the flowers from her. “Thank you.”

  She smiled warmly and left. Dane waited until she got in the delivery van marked Flowers by Margaret before he turned toward Annie. He kicked the door closed.

  “Someone sent me a funeral spray?” Annie touched the flowers, yelped and pulled back her hand.

  “What’s wrong?” Dane tossed the flowers to the floor.