“I’m sorry, but Richard can’t be bothered right now. He’s going to be speaking in just a few minutes.”
“What I have to say to him won’t take but a few minutes,” Annie said.
When Annie tried to move past Webber, he reached out to stop her, but before his hand touched her arm, Dane grabbed Webber’s wrist and twisted it behind his back. Murdock moved between Dane and the crowd in front of the podium.
“Don’t ever try to touch her again,” Dane warned Webber.
Taking advantage of the moment, Annie ran for the podium steps. But after she’d taken only one step up, Dickie Hughes loomed in front of her.
“Father can’t speak to you right now, Annie,” Dickie told her.
“Look, it’s like this,” Annie said. “Either your father speaks to me alone now or I’ll ask my questions in front of this crowd when Richard finishes his little campaign spiel.”
“Wait here.”
Annie nodded and waited while Dickie scurried up the steps and across the podium to whisper into his father’s ear. Richard looked down at Annie, his gaze deadly cold, then he said something to Gloria, got up and came across the podium alone.
“What’s this all about, Annie?” Richard asked as he joined her at the foot of the steps.
Dane stood guard at Annie’s side. She glanced back and saw that Murdock’s big body blocked Jason Webber from approaching.
“Why haven’t you taken our calls for the past two days?” Dane asked. “We’ve uncovered some more information that leads us to believe that Martin Edwards’s secretary used some type of evidence that the man was murdered to blackmail someone in authority at Hughes Chemicals and Plastics.”
A pulsing vein in Richard’s neck bulged. Although he controlled his facial muscles so that his expression didn’t change, he could not disguise the darkening of his eyes or the slight flush that colored his neck.
“This isn’t the time or place to discuss such a delicate matter.” Richard looked past Annie, straight into Dane’s face. “Son, I know nothing about any evidence or any blackmail. Martin Edwards’s secretary left our employ right after his death. If Alice Renegar has told you anything—”
“Ms. Renegar died last month.” Annie thought Richard Hughes had to be an excellent actor to put on such a good performance.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Richard said. “But the fact remains that I am in no way involved in a murder or a coverup and I know nothing about either.”
“Then why did Hughes Chemicals and Plastics pay Alice Renegar ten thousand dollars a month for nearly twenty years?” Dane asked.
Richard’s face crumbled. His jaw sagged. His mouth drooped. His eyes shut as if he were uttering a silent prayer. And then, as suddenly as he’d lost control, he regained it and said, “If this is true, then I’ll get to the bottom of these accusations. If someone in my company has committed a criminal act, I’ll find him and—”
“Even if it’s your own son?” Annie asked.
“Yes.” Richard squared his shoulders. “Even if it’s Dickie.”
“You have forty-eight hours,” Dane told his former father-in-law, and at that precise moment, he felt sorry for the man. “After that, we’ll go to the police with everything we know.”
“Then you have the evidence?” Richard asked.
“We have a great deal of information,” Dane said. “And we have every reason to believe that the evidence Halley Robinson sent Annie will be in our possession before the week’s out.” Dane was bluffing, of course, but Richard had no way of knowing that.
Dickie called down from the top edge of the steps. “Father, they’re going to announce you in a couple of minutes.”
“I have to go,” Richard said. “Give me that forty-eight hours.”
When Annie and Dane walked past Jason Webber, he all but hissed at them. His dark gaze bored a hole into Annie.
“You have no right to cause trouble for Richard,” Webber said to Dane. “He thought he could trust you.”
“And I thought I could trust him,” Dane said. “Seems we were both wrong.”
“This isn’t over, Ms. Harden.” Webber snarled at Annie.
Dane got up in Webber’s face and said, “That sounded like a threat. For your sake, I hope it wasn’t.”
As Annie walked away, Dane and Murdock flanking her, she sighed. “Well, they’ve got to make a move now,” she said. “We’ve thrown down the gauntlet.”
“You just have to be right in the middle of it, don’t you?” Grasping Annie’s arm, Dane halted her before she reached her mother’s picnic table. “You couldn’t let me take care of it. Why not, honey? Do you still think I’d let Richard off the hook if he is guilty.”
“If he’s guilty! Glaring at him, Annie planted her hands on her hips. “If? Do you honestly still have any doubts? He’s guilty of something, even if it’s just protecting his son.”
“Or protecting your uncle,” Dane said.
Annie nodded, knowing that Uncle Royce was possibly involved. He’d been a major stockholder in the local Hughes business for years and had even served on the board of directors for as long as Annie could remember.
“Let’s go on over and say hello to your mama.” Murdock lifted Annie’s arm out of Dane’s grasp and laced it through his. “There’s no reason why we can’t join your family for lunch and enjoy this beautiful day. I don’t think anybody’s going to be taking any pot shots at you, not with this crowd around.”
Turning her back on Dane, Annie allowed Murdock to escort her to her mother’s table. Dane joined them a few minutes later, but remained silent and brooding, even when Jennifer used all her Southern belle charm in an effort to bring him into the conversation.
When Royce Layman tried to question Dane about their little confrontation with Richard Hughes, Murdock stepped in and answered with an out-and-out lie.
“Oh, they were just wishing Mr. Hughes good luck with his speech today.”
Annie noticed the concerned look on her uncle’s face and once again wondered just how much he knew. She was having as difficult a time accepting the possibility that her uncle might be involved in a crime as Dane was accepting that Richard Hughes could be.
Annie paced the floor. She couldn’t sleep. She and Dane hadn’t said a word to each other since she’d demanded to know if he still had doubts that Richard Hughes was up to his eyeballs in the coverup of Martin Edwards’s murder. In retrospect, she admitted to herself that she’d been wrong to practically accuse him of stupidity, of his being unwilling to accept the possibility that Richard was involved. She knew better. She knew that despite how painful it had been for him, Dane had accepted the undeniable truth. But she had lashed out at him, and even when she’d seen the hurt look in his eyes, she hadn’t taken back her accusation.
A part of her was afraid to totally trust Dane, to believe he truly was different from her ex-husband. That he’d never betray her, not even to protect his beloved Lorna’s father.
Annie gasped when her bedroom door opened. Dane hadn’t knocked before he entered her room and invaded her privacy. He paused, looked directly at her and then closed and locked the door. Annie trembled.
“We’re going to settle this once and for all,” he said. “No matter how your father or your ex-husband treated you, no matter how they hurt you, you’ve got to know that I’m nothing like them.” He came toward her, his steps slow, steady and deliberate. “Regardless of what it costs me and no matter what I have to give up, I’m on the side of truth. I’m on your side, Annie, one hundred percent.”
“I know.” The words rushed out of her on a whispery breath.
“I’m going to see this thing through to the end, regardless of how it turns out,” he said as he moved closer and closer to her. “You, and only you, are what’s important to me. You’re what matters. Not Richard Hughes. Not generations of tradition. Not my pride. Not…” He stood directly in front of Annie, but didn’t touch her. “Not even Lorna.”
Annie swayed tow
ard him. She knew what it had cost him to make that declaration. He had cut his ties to the past, to the woman he had loved and to his unfaltering faith in a gentleman like Richard.
“Oh, Dane.” Her hand lifted, as if she had no control over it, and caressed his cheek.
Taking her touch as an invitation, he lifted her into his arms, and carried her across the room. She clung to him, one slender arm draping his neck. The minute he eased her down onto the bed, he began undoing the pearl buttons on her black silk robe.
She looked up at him, her big brown eyes smoldering with desire.
“I trust you completely,” she said.
Her breathy words curled about him like velvet cords, binding him to her and hardening his already rock-solid sex. He finished undoing the buttons and removed her robe, revealing the skimpy red teddy she wore underneath.
She reached up to unbutton his shirt. “I’ve missed being with you.”
She lifted her hand to his belt. Noting the way her hand trembled, he knocked it aside and undid his belt. Without hesitation, he undressed hurriedly, down to his briefs.
Annie sat there waiting for him. She sucked in her breath when he eased the straps of her teddy down her arms and to her waist, exposing her luscious breasts.
Dane straddled her hips and brought his mouth down to cover one begging nipple. She moaned. Deeply. Harshly. As if the touch of his tongue against her flesh had hurt her. But he knew better. He knew every nuance of Annie’s moans and cries and whimpers.
He wanted to take all night with her. And he would. But not the first time. He needed her too much right now and she needed him just as desperately. Later, they could torment each other slowly and pleasure each other until they were spent. But right now, he wanted instant satisfaction.
Lifting himself up, he stood, then removed his briefs. When he hovered over her, Annie smiled and he grinned back at her.
She knew she was staring at him—at his large, blatant erection—but she couldn’t help herself. He was a glorious sight. She forced her gaze upward, across his flat stomach and muscular chest and on to his face. Her body zinged with excitement. Anticipation built a hot, heavy flow of liquid inside her. Having experienced the pleasure of Dane’s possession, she longed for the fulfillment only he could give her.
Dane cupped her mound through her teddy. She lifted herself toward his caressing hand. He breathed as hard as she did. A flush of arousal stained his face and neck. Perspiration coated his body, curling his chest hair.
“Now!” she told him. “Please, Dane, now.”
Dane slid her teddy down and off, then flung it to the floor. Lowering his body over hers he said, “I’m going to give you what you want…what we both want.”
She cried out when he thrust into her—hot, hard and filling her with his need. Her body clutched his, holding him, taking him completely. She clung to his shoulders as he withdrew and plunged again, deeper still. He grabbed her hips, lifting her, working her back and forth until she was filled with an incredible ache that grew stronger and stronger with each lunge of his big body.
Sweet heaven! She thought she was dying. Within seconds the strongest, most intense climax of her life ripped her apart. And in that instant she knew she had indeed died. The little death of sexual pleasure.
Her completion signaled his and he followed her over the precipice, headlong into a release that elicited an animalistic cry from his lips.
Later, after they had both recovered, Dane lifted the covers up and over them and brought Annie into his embrace. He kissed her left temple.
She sighed. “I love you.” She hadn’t meant to tell him, hadn’t known she was going to voice her feelings aloud. When he didn’t respond, she wished she could take back her declaration.
“Annie, I—”
She covered his lips with her hand. “It’s all right. Don’t say anything. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you. It just happened.”
“You think it’s love, but it’s not,” he told her. “Women fall in love with their bodyguards all the time. But it doesn’t last.”
“Mmm-hmm, I suppose you’re right.”
“After this is all over and you’re safe, tell me again that you love me and we’ll both know it’s for real.”
“I’d be a fool if I really were in love with you, wouldn’t I? After all, why would I want another domineering Southern gentleman trying to run my life?” But despite her words, Annie was all wound up inside. Dane had rejected her, damn him! She had told him she loved him and he’d told her what she felt wasn’t love. But she knew the truth—what he felt for her wasn’t love!
“You do realize that anything permanent between us would end up in disaster,” Dane said. He didn’t want Annie’s love. Hell, he probably didn’t deserve it. He had spent the past ten years in love with a ghost—with a dream of the perfect wife, which Lorna had never really been. But something within him wouldn’t allow him to let go of the past, of the guilt, the remorse and even the fear. If he chose to love Annie, he would not only have to give up the memory of Lorna, but he would have to take a chance on loving and losing again, a chance that history might repeat itself. He didn’t think he was that brave.
“I’m sorry I got sentimental on you,” Annie cuddled close to Dane, suppressing her feelings in an effort to gain back the intimacy they’d just shared. “Let’s forget about anything permanent and enjoy what we have right now.”
He kissed her tenderly as he held her close. “What we have right now, is pretty damn good.”
Annie sighed, then closed her eyes and absorbed the warmth of Dane’s big body.
They slept for a while, then woke and made love again. They took their time, exploring each other’s bodies, teasing, tempting and tormenting. And when fulfillment claimed them the second time, it was even better than the first. Making love with Dane was unlike anything Annie had ever known. Sheer unadulterated pleasure. Hot, hungry and all-consuming pleasure.
Afterward, Annie lay awake a long time, wondering what tomorrow would bring.
Chapter 15
Annie had tried to put her mother off when she’d invited them to dinner. But Jennifer had been insistent that since it was Annie’s thirty-fifth birthday, she didn’t think it was asking too much that mother and daughter share some time together. Annie preferred to forget that this July the fifth was the halfway mark of her thirties. After all, thirty-five was a passage, as Annie saw it—a passage from the last vestiges of youth to the portals of mid-life.
In twenty-four hours, Richard Hughes’s forty-eight hours would be up and, so far, they hadn’t heard a word from him. The waiting had made Dane tense and her irritable. They were playing a dangerous game. If Richard saw through Dane’s bluff, the most they would accomplish by sharing all they knew with the police would be sullying Richard’s good name, by revealing a scandal that would be fodder for the news media. Without Alice Renegar’s evidence, which was out there somewhere in the package Halley Robinson had mailed, they had no real proof against anyone.
While she stood on the veranda of her aunt and uncle’s Victorian home, waiting for someone to answer the doorbell, Annie had the sudden urge to turn and run.
Dane slipped his arm around her waist. “It’s only dinner with your family.”
“I know,” Annie said. “And my mother is bound to remind me that I’m thirty-five, single and childless.”
“I take it she wants grandchildren,” Dane said.
“Oh, yes, she most definitely wants grandchildren.”
“My sisters have already provided my mother with grandchildren, but she won’t be satisfied until I remarry and give her a few more.”
“Mothers can be so—”
The door swung open and Vera Layman greeted them in the foyer. “Come in, come in.” Her voice tittered with excitement and a silly grin created soft creases in her cheeks. She motioned them inside with a wave of her hand.
The minute they entered the foyer, Vera closed the door behind them and grabbed Annie.
“Oh, Annie, love. Happy Birthday!”
On cue, a loud chorus of “Happy Birthday, Annie” rose from the crowd of people who poured out of the living room and surrounded Annie. She looked to Dane for help, but all he could do was shrug, thus informing her that this surprise party was news to him.
Vera led Annie through the living room and into the dining room, where an enormous birthday cake dominated the table. Sitting high atop the three-foot creation were numeral candles. A three and a five, announcing her age to one and all. Virginia, the Layman’s housekeeper, lit the candles and stepped aside. Jennifer Harden motioned for Annie to come forward. When she moved into center stage, alongside her mother at the dining table, Dane shadowed her.
Jennifer smiled warmly, leaned over, hugged Annie and whispered, “Happy Birthday. Please, don’t be too terribly upset. Your aunt Vera has been planning this party for months now. We can’t disappoint her, can we?”
“No, of course not, Mother.” No matter what—famine, pestilence or death—one must never forget one’s social obligations. Annie knew that was Jennifer Harden’s creed.
“Then say a few words, dear, and blow out your candles.”
Jennifer nudged her around just enough so that she faced the group of friends and family who had gathered to celebrate a birthday she would have preferred to forget. “Thank y’all for coming tonight,” Annie said, forcing a feeble smile. “It means so much to me to share this special occasion with such wonderful people.”
“Now blow out your candles and while Virginia and Helen are serving, you can open your gifts.” Jennifer turned with Annie and pursed her lips as if she were the one who was going to blow out the candles.
The minute Annie accomplished the deed, Jennifer led her into the living room and placed her in a wing-back chair by the fireplace. Only then did Annie notice the stack of gifts arranged on the hearth.
“And you mustn’t worry about the gifts,” Jennifer said directly to Dane, but loud enough so that Annie heard her. “I had everyone drop off their gifts early so that we could take them over to the police station and have Milton Holman check each one of them.”
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