Undercover Bachelor

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Undercover Bachelor Page 13

by Rebecca Winters


  “No. I pretended that I had already made plans to do shopping with friends. That’s when he told me that he had developed indigestion after eating cheese fondue for lunch and was planning to skip dinner and the polka fest they’re staging here tonight.”

  “Which is a lie. He’s moving in on you now and doesn’t want to wait until Paris.”

  Whitney groaned at the prospect of having to tolerate the other man’s touch even for an instant “I don’t want to wait until Paris, either. I’d just a soon get this over with tonight.”

  “For reasons I can’t go into now, it’s imperative you put him off until the end of the trip.”

  Her head reared back. “Why?”

  His expression hardened. “Because there’s more at stake here than catching this man in the middle of committing an immoral act with an innocent teenager.”

  Starting to put two and two together she asked, “Are you an FBI agent or something?”

  “No, Ms. Lawrence. I’m a private detective working with Interpol, and that’s as much as I’m free to tell you.”

  Dear God. She really didn’t mean anything to him. She had just happened to get in the middle of a sting operation, and he’d decided to make use of her.

  The knowledge hurt. It hurt more than anything had ever hurt her in her whole life.

  “I presume Mr. Bowen is a wanted man and considered dangerous,” she said in a brittle voice. She couldn’t help it.

  He straightened to his full height. “As long as you do exactly as I say until we reach Paris, there is absolutely no fear for your safety.”

  I’m not worried about my safety. You stole my heart and have changed my life forever.

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Of course, but you’d be doing your country a great service if you were willing to play along.”

  My country?

  “What I want you to do,” he drawled, appearing to read her mind, “is string him along until we reach Paris and he asks you to pick up that toy for his daughter. Since you turned him down for tomorrow, no doubt he’s intending to lure you to his room tonight on some pretext or other.”

  Whitney folded her arms tightly against her waist. “The same thought crossed my mind.”

  “When he calls, follow his lead and go to his room so he’ll believe you’re interested in getting more intimate with him. I’ll give you a few minutes, then create a diversion that will interrupt anything he has in mind.”

  “Don’t wait too long!” she blurted before she realized how much she had admitted by that telling outburst.

  When she’d been seducing Hank, the last thing she had worried about was the time. She’d come across as a wanton lover in his arms and had shown no reticence whatsoever. And Hank knew it.

  As if to make matters worse, the phone rang just then, jarring her nerves so badly she actually jumped. The realization that Mr. Bowen was in pursuit of her made her ill, especially now that Hank had shed new light on the situation.

  The man who’d changed her world for all time darted her a surprisingly fierce glance before motioning for her to pick up the receiver.

  With trepidation she reached for it and said hello.

  “Whitney? It’s Donald Bowen.”

  “I was just about to call you and see how you were feeling.”

  “How sweet of you. Unfortunately, I’n not doing very well.”

  “Oh, dear. Then you’ll miss the show tonight.”

  “I’m afraid so. Say, I was wondering if after dinner you would mind bringing me some tea. They don’t have room service here and I think I need something to settle my stomach.”

  “I’d love to bring you tea, and anything else you might like. Shall I pick up an antacid at the pharmacy?”

  “Oh, no. That won’t be necessary. Tea ought to do the trick. But I hate taking you away from the polka fest.”

  “Oh, Mr. Bowen. After all the nice things you’ve done for me, do you think I care about that? It will be a pleasure to help you. I ought to be at your room within the hour. Where is it?”

  “Number sixteen on the third floor. You’re a treasure, Whitney. I’m looking forward to seeing you,”

  “Me, too. À tout à l’heure.”

  She put down the receiver. “Did I do that right?”

  One dark blond brow arched sardonically. “So right the man won’t waste any time making his move once you’re alone with him.”

  A shudder passed through her body. “I think I’m going to skip dinner.”

  She felt his probing gaze wander over her features. “I tell you what. You relax and do whatever you feel like. I’ll go downstairs and tell the guys you have a headache. After I’ve eaten dinner, I’ll bring the tea to your room and you can proceed from there.”

  “Fine. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to shower.”

  He didn’t move. “Whitney? You don’t need to worry. I’ll be here to protect you every step of the way.”

  “I’m not worried,” she lied. “I just want to get out of these clothes.”

  She thought she saw a bleak look enter his eyes before he made a swift exit from the room and shut the door quietly behind him.

  She raced to the door to lock it, then threw herself across the twin bed and sobbed into the pillow. This trip had turned into a nightmare.

  Forty minutes later, after Gerard had made a call to his contact at Interpol and had joined the boys for dinner, he took the tray of tea and rolls to Whitney’s room.

  He was close to solving this case, but part of him wished he could go back to a few days ago when Whitney had no idea what was going on and had melted in his arms whenever they found an opportunity to get close.

  She couldn’t have been playacting all the time. He’d stake his life and reputation on the fact that she had wanted him as much as he’d wanted her.

  But the wooden-faced woman who opened the door just now gave nothing of those feelings away. She’d obviously freshened up and changed into black pants and a frothy white blouse her figure did wonders for. The fragrance from the shampoo she used filled the hallway. That purely professional manner of hers tore at his emotions, leaving him feeling at loose ends and dangerously restless.

  Without a word to him, she took the tray and left for Bowen’s room. Gerard went to his own room and maintained contact through his cellular phone with the agents who’d come to the hotel on the pretext of investigating another theft. He instructed them to give her five minutes from the time she went inside before they knocked on Bowen’s door and asked her to go back to her room for her passport.

  Five minutes wasn’t enough time for her to get into too much trouble, but he wasn’t about to take any chances where she was concerned. Bowen had no conscience and would be ruthless now that he believed he was this close to getting Whitney under his complete control.

  It felt more like five hours before she came back to the room. When she saw him, she let out an audible gasp, as if he were the last person she expected to see. Or wanted to see. Lord.

  “How did it go? Did he try to get physical with you?” Gerard hoped his voice didn’t betray his emotions, which were churning at the idea of Bowen or any other man touching her.

  She refused to look at him.

  “He got up from the bed and took the tray from me. Then he kissed my forehead and told me I was angel.”

  “That was all?” Gerard prodded because she was no longer forthcoming. His eyes followed the movement of her hands which were rubbing her hips absently, revealing a high degree of agitation.

  “No.”

  He took a step closer to her. “What else did he do to you?”

  “He didn’t try to make love to me, if that’s what you mean. It was what he said.”

  Gerard sucked in his breath. “Go on.”

  “He admitted that his marriage had been over for a long time, and that he’d been fighting his feelings for me because I was so young. But he said it was no use. He’d fallen in love with me and wanted to make love to me. He
wanted to know if I felt the same way.”

  Gerard’s hands tightened into fists. “And you said?”

  “I told him that I would never have come to his room with the tea if I didn’t feel a strong attraction, too.”

  “You think he believed you?”

  She whirled around, her cheeks flushed. “I made sure he did.”

  Certain pictures ran through his mind, filling him with rage. That swine had kissed her mouth and held her in his arms. Adrenaline surged through his taut body.

  “What plans did he make with you before you were interrupted?”

  “The gendarme pounded on the door too soon for us to talk about anything.”

  That was the best news Gerard had heard all night.

  “Now that the proverbial die has been cast, you realize that in a few minutes your phone will ring and he’ll ask you to come back to his room to take up where you left off.”

  She nodded jerkily. “Either that, or he’ll decide to come to my room, confident that I’ll let him in.”

  Gerard heard more than a trace of fear in her tone just now.

  “Well, he won’t find you here. Since you’re a student on this tour and it’s your legitimate right to be with the group, we’re going to join everyone downstairs for the festivities and there’s nothing he can say or do about it. His hands are firmly tied, at least for tonight.” Thank heaven. “Shall we go?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he cupped her elbow and ushered her from the room, relishing her warmth. In her near-panic state, she didn’t seem to mind the contact.

  Or else she’s so upset she hasn’t noticed an inner voice tortured him as they made their way down the hall and subsequent two flights of stairs to the dining hall.

  The group of dancers in native Swiss costume backed by musicians with accordians were in the middle of a lively routine when he and Whitney worked their way to the table where Jeff and Roger were seated.

  The guys were delighted to have her back and made a place for her between them, leaving Gerard to take a seat on the opposite side of the table next to Mr. Hart and his group.

  To make certain any plans Bowen had for Whitney were totally thwarted once the performance was over, Gerard invited the boys and Whitney to take a walk along the water’s edge and enjoy the balmy night air.

  For Jeff and Roger the evening turned out to be a total success, replete with a stop at the world-famous House of Chocolate where they all splurged on truffles and bought gifts to take home to their families.

  As for Whitney, he knew she was thankful to be away from the hotel where Bowen couldn’t get to her. But whether she found pleasure in being with Gerard for a few hours, he had no way of knowing, not when she involved herself in the boys’ conversations for the duration of their outing.

  However, when they all said good night in the hall, she couldn’t quite hide her anxiety at being alone again. He watched the animation vanish from her face just before she shut the door to her room.

  As soon as everyone disappeared, Gerard stepped across the hall and called her name.

  She opened the door a crack. “What is it?”

  “A word of warning. Don’t answer your phone tonight.”

  “I—I won’t.”

  He’d told her too much about Bowen. Now she was feeling more vulnerable than ever and it was all his fault. Damn.

  “This is almost over, Whitney. We just have to get you through tomorrow night in Strasbourg, then we’ll be back in Paris where he’ll ask you to pick up the toy for him. When that transaction has taken place, Bowen will be placed in custody and you’ll never have to see him again.”

  “Tomorrow night is what’s worrying me.” Her voice betrayed a tremor.

  “There’s no reason to be nervous. I’ve arranged to take you and the boys on a little side trip over the border into Germany. If Bowen raises objections to your going, you can tell him the plans were made days ago and can’t be altered, but remind him you’ll spend all your time with him when you get to Paris.”

  She bit her lower lip. “That sounds like a good plan.”

  He could read between the lines. “You’re frightened about tonight, aren’t you?”

  Her expression closed up. “If he knocks on my door, I’ll ignore him.”

  “That’s right,” he ground out, coming to a lightning decision. “Because you won’t be in here.”

  Her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

  “From now on you’re going to sleep in my room until this case is closed. Grab what you need for tonight.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t question my judgment, Whitney. I know things you don’t and prefer to protect you at close range.”

  “You think I need protecting?”

  “I’m not sure. We’re dealing with an unknown here. Let’s just say I’ll be able to do my job better if I know you’re safe with me. I would have suggested this arrangement sooner, but didn’t want to upset you unduly. Where’s your key?”

  She acted shell-shocked. “On the dresser.”

  Face it, Roche. The lady’s not interested in being alone with you, but that’s too damn bad because you’re spending the rest of your nights with her anyway.

  When this case is over, you can take a nice, long vacation at Yuri’s until you get Ms. Lawrence completely out of your system.

  But a few minutes later as he followed her out of the room and locked it, he was seized by the haunting fear that she had a permanent hold on his heart and there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

  “You can sleep in my bed,” he muttered as they entered his room seconds later.

  She whirled around. “Where will you sleep?”

  “I have a bedroll. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I’ve got some business to take care of so I’m going downstairs for a while. Lock the door behind me. I have a key, and will let myself in later. See you in the morning. Dors bien.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  WHTTNEY couldn’t believe this was happening to her. She was actually going to spend the night with Hank.

  Right now her emotions had risen to such a feverish pitch, she was running on nerves and little else.

  This was a mistake. She knew it was, but part of her exulted in the fact that she was going to be with him, no matter the reason. In a few days it would all be over. Hank would receive another assignment, wherever that was, and Whitney would get back to the law firm. In no time she would be immersed in the case she’d been working on before she left.

  As for telling Christine that the father of her baby was not only an unscrupulous liar, but a man wanted by Interpol for crimes against his country, Whitney had already made the decision to say nothing to her sister or family about this trip.

  Christine had been trying to put the whole affair behind her. She had the right to keep a few illusions and raise her son without knowing the sordid details of Donald Bowen’s double life.

  Greg was an adorable, innocent little boy with a body and spirit all his own. Whitney would never burden him or his mother with ugly details that could serve no purpose and only bring pain. This whole trip was best forgotten.

  Except that you’ll never forget it, Whitney. You’ll never forget him...

  Taking advantage of the time alone, she reached for her cosmetic bag and cotton flannel robe, then rushed into the adjoining cubicle to get ready for bed. She wasn’t sure that sometime during the night she would be able to stop herself from climbing into his bed and begging him to make love to her for the time they had left.

  Until she’d met Hank, Whitney would never have imagined such a situation happening to her where she would do anything for a man’s love, knowing full well he didn’t return her feelings.

  It was a good thing this trip was almost over, her mind repeated like a litany. But her heart kept pounding out a different message as she lay there listening for his footsteps.

  To her surprise, the next thing she knew it was morning and she awakened to an empty room. Hank had ma
de her feel so safe, she’d fallen into oblivion without realizing it. If he’d slept on the floor by the bed, she saw no sleeping bag. For that matter, his luggage was gone. He’d probably taken it down to the bus.

  The only evidence that he’d been in the room was the message he’d left for her on the dresser.

  Whitney—

  Bowen paid you a little call last night. When he couldn’t gain entrance, he slipped a note under your door. He has plans for you tonight, but as we discussed earlier, you’re not going to be around. Remain in my room until I come for you.

  Hank.

  Did that mean he’d stayed up most of the night keeping guard? When did he sleep? Had he watched her?

  Alternate shivers of consternation and excitement raced through her body.

  Needing to give vent to emotions the very thought of him aroused, she got out of bed and dressed quickly in a clean pair of pants and blouse so she’d be ready for him.

  She longed to wear clothes befitting her age and taste. It would be wonderful to apply makeup and arrange her hair in its normal style. In truth, she wanted Hank to see her as the twenty-six-year-old woman she was. But until the tour was over she had to continue her eighteen-year-old disguise.

  Her heart ached to realize that she might never see him again after this. He would never know her as her family and friends did.

  “Whitney?” he called out ten minutes later, breaking into her torturous thoughts. She heard the key in the lock before he opened the door.

  She donned her sunglasses, afraid to meet his searching gaze. “I—I’m ready,” she stammered. At this point she was behaving as outrageously as any lovesick teen on the trip.

  Grabbing her cases, she slipped out of the room, past his hard-muscled body. He relieved her of them as they walked side by side down the hall to the stairs.

  “I’ll put these on the bus after you’ve gone. Sorry you’re going to miss breakfast. A bunch of kids are waiting for you in the foyer to go shopping. Don’t come back until lunch. We’ll be boarding the bus for Strasbourg directly after we eat. I’ll be with the guys. We’ll follow you through town at a discreet distance. Have a good day.”

 

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