Screw that spanking jerk, she thought, caught off guard by the sob that escaped her throat. “I hate him,” she insisted out loud, getting up. Walking to her car, her head down against the wind, she never noticed the man watching her.
“Mr. McCarthy, it’s C.W., I think I’ve found her; at least, she’s driving a Prius with the plate number you gave me. I have to tell you, though, this girl doesn’t look much like the woman in the picture you gave me.”
Marcus gripped his phone, his knuckles white as hope flared.
“What does she look like,” he demanded, sinking into his chair. The last week had been pure hell. “Where are you?”
“I’m in Mystic, Connecticut, but if this girl is her…I’m just not sure. There’s always the possibility that something happened to her and her car was stolen.”
“Are you following her now? Tell me what you see,” Marcus insisted as he started taking notes.
“Well, she’s small, much shorter than the tall, glamorous woman you showed me. She looks younger, too, more fragile, almost like a kid. Her hair is long, like you said, but it’s darker. She could have dyed it, if she’s worried about being found, or it could just be wet from the water.”
“Water? What water? Susan can’t swim,” he roared in panic, bounding out of his chair. “For God’s sake, don’t let her get near the water!”
“We’re on the boardwalk, sir. Mystic is a seaport, and today the weather is particularly nasty.”
“Oh, right,” Marcus sighed, running his hand through his hair and pacing his office. “What’s she wearing?”
“Jeans, a gray hoodie and sneakers.”
“Sneakers?”
“Yeah.”
“Crap, maybe it isn’t her if she’s wearing sneakers,” he groaned.
“If you’ll pardon my saying so, sir, today isn’t the day for heels. The boardwalk is slippery.”
“That wouldn’t stop Susan,” Marcus snorted in frustration, “but it is possible she doesn’t want to ruin any of her precious stilettos.”
“Oh shit.”
“What, what happened?” Marcus yelled into the phone. “Is everything alright?”
“She just fell.”
“Then it could be her, she’s a little uncoordinated.”
“A little? I’m going to try and help her up,” C.W. relied softly. “I’ll slip my phone into my pocket, but don’t say anything. Maybe if you can hear the sound of her voice you can ID her.”
“Good thinking.”
“Miss, are you alright? Let me help you,” he suggested, squatting down beside the young woman sprawled in front of him. Reaching out, he offered his hand.
Susan stared at it for a few moments, trying to decide whether he was friend or foe. He had a nice face, she decided, and honest-looking clear blue eyes. His short haircut made her wonder whether he was in the military, and she was almost ready to trust him when he got tired of waiting and plucked her up easily, setting her on her feet.
“Um…thanks, I guess,” she said, swaying slightly as she regained her balance. Boy, he sure could move fast.
“I’m C.W.,” he said, offering his hand. “I hope you’re not injured.”
“Not visibly,” she sighed, looking at his hand as he waited. She busily brushed off her jeans and straightened her jacket, stalling, but his hand waited, his expression expectant.
“I’m um…Dee,” she finally said, taking his hand and giving it a shake.
“Dee?”
“Yeah, short for Delilah, I’m a real siren, can’t you tell?” she asked, staring him down.
For the first time, the man smiled. “Yes, I can see that,” he replied.
“Well, thanks, for the help, I…I gotta go. See you around, maybe,” Sue said, walking quickly toward the parking area.
C.W. watched her as he moved toward his own vehicle. Slipping his cell from his pocket he asked, “Well?”
“I’m not sure, it was pretty muffled. What do you think now that you’ve seen her up close?”
“I think she’s cute, a little sassy and has some spunk.”
“That describes Susan perfectly. Unfortunately, she’s also quick to jump to conclusions, more than ready to believe the worst about me, or any man for that matter, and in need of a keeper. I’m leaving here in ten minutes, don’t let her slip away.”
“I’m following her now,” he replied, starting his Escalade.
“Good, is there any way you can put a tracking device on the vehicle, just in case?”
“I’ve got it covered. As soon as she stops and is away from the vehicle, I’ll plant it.”
“Excellent, I’m walking out the door now. Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me yet, Mr. McCarthy. She may not be your girl, and if she’s not, she awfully cute. I may…”
“Don’t even think about it,” Marcus growled. “If that’s Susan, she’s hours away from becoming my wife.”
“I read you loud and clear, McCarthy, but a guy can hope can’t he,” he said with a laugh.
“Just do your job. I’ll call you when I get close.”
Watching out her rear view mirror, Susan noted the vehicle several cars behind her. She was sure it belonged to the man at the boardwalk, and a slight chill passed through her. On a hunch, instead of heading back to her hotel, she pulled into the aquarium parking lot and chose a space close to the entrance. Paying her admittance fee, she passed through the turnstile and moved off to the side, where she could watch her car without being seen. The big black vehicle passed the entrance and continued on; it did not return. Waiting another few minutes and tamping down her paranoia, she let her eyes sweep the large parking area one last time, and there he was, the man from the boardwalk.
He’d lost the long black coat and replaced it with an olive hoodie, but she was certain it was the same man. Causally he blended in with a group of tourists, picking up something a man carrying a toddler had dropped and handing it back with a laugh as they walked in the same direction, headed for the entrance.
Standing in the shadow of a large promotional display, Susan saw him veer to the left when they hit the second row of parking spaces. Giving a wave, he moved to her car, pretending he was going to open the door but instead, bent down as though inspecting the front tire. Seconds later he straightened, ran his hand through his hair, shrugged his shoulders and walked back the way he’d come.
Susan snorted; what an actor, she thought as she turned and wandered through the tourist attraction.
In reality, she had nothing to fear. What could Marcus do if he did manage to locate her? He was the one in the wrong, the one who lied and cheated, and he couldn’t force her to do anything. Their contract was now null and void as far as she was concerned, violated by the man who promised to love her forever. Instead, all she’d gotten was a broken heart and a vicious blow to her pride. Half of her wished she’d stayed around to confront the bastard, and the other half knew she would have made a complete and utter fool of herself. She couldn’t even think about him without tears flooding her eyes. Holding onto her anger was better than remembering the way his strong arm snaked around her belly in the night, pulling her close as he whispered in her ear of his need.
Oh, he was a silver-tongued devil alright, she thought, in more ways than one. His words alone could bring her to the brink of an orgasm, not to mention what his mouth was capable of. Even when he had her howling over his knees, she knew in her heart she was exactly where she was supposed to be. Why did he have to ruin everything?
Susan stopped and bought a stuffed penguin on the way out. She would use it to remind herself that her own heart was better off on ice. Reaching her car, she knelt down and felt above the tire for the tracking device, her fingers nimble as they traced the underside of the panel. In seconds, she’d located the magnetic piece and stuck it under the vehicle parked next to hers. It had Maryland plates, and there was a father struggling to open the passenger side door and get a rebellious toddler inside and buckled into his car seat.
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“Stop giving Daddy a hard time, Ben. We told you we could only stop for a little while so you could see the animals one more time before we go home. It’s not like we haven’t spent hours here in the last week,” Ben’s mother scolded. “Daddy has to work, you know.”
“Headed home?” Susan asked as she got into her car.
“Yes,” the somewhat frazzled woman replied, “and I can’t wait. Boy, this hasn’t been much of a vacation for me, I’ll tell you that.”
“I know what you mean,” Susan replied. “That’s why I decided to get away by myself this year.”
“Have you had a good time?” the woman asked with a touch of envy in her tone.
“Not really,” Susan replied with a smile, “but things just got a whole lot better. Safe trip.”
“Thanks, you too.”
The gas station she hit on the way back to her hotel was busy, but it only took a few minutes to grab a bag of Cheetos and a Pepsi. Snagging several gossip rags off the rack, she paid for her purchases and left, scanning the area as she got into her car. She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her, even though she knew that C.W. was probably tailing the wrong vehicle right now. Speeding away, she parked on the backside of the building and slipped into a side door that someone left ajar.
Once in her room, she relaxed and kicked off her shoes, plopping in a chair. Opening her snacks, she picked up a paper and scanned the contents. Sooner or later, there was bound to be something about Marcus and Bianca.
She found it on page 3, and it was not what she expected:
Best-Selling Author Marcus McCarthy Cancels Book Tour To Chase After Missing Bride- To-Be!
Marcus McCarthy, best-selling author and the literary world’s most eligible bachelor has canceled his long awaited book tour to find his missing bride-to-be. By all accounts, McCarthy and his fiancée, Susan Shaughnessy, have a volatile relationship despite their recent engagement.
*see pictures below.
Susan’s eyed widened in shock as she studied the wide range of pictures provided. There was one just before he dropped her in the fountain in Las Vegas, and another of when he plucked her out, dipping her back to kiss her, that had her heart pounding in recognition of his dominance. Other candid shots showed her at the pool on the phone and over his hip as he strode down the hallway in the hotel, and there was even one from Desperado’s in which a young man was trying to get the shot glass from between her breasts as she laughed. There was a small photo of Marcus, taken from the jacket of his book, and another they paid for at dinner one night, showing a glowing Susan and a supremely satisfied Marcus. But the most devastating photo by far was a shot captured when Marcus was running toward a plane, the look on his face one of unreserved distress. Her hands were shaking as she read the rest of the article.
Rumor has it that although Ms. Shaughnessy fled unexpectedly, it does not warrant a missing persons report, yet McCarthy has offered a hefty reward to anyone who can provide her location. Sources report that a private investigating firm has also been retained. Ladies, this is one determined man.
All this reporter can suggest is: Slow down, Ms. Shaughnessy, and let that man catch you!
Not likely, she thought as she tossed the paper onto the bed and clicked on the TV. An hour later, she began to second guess herself. Sure she’d managed to send Mr. Private-Eye man off on a wild goose chase, but how long before he discovered he’d been had? What if the family from Maryland never even made it out of town?
Grabbing her bag, she started stuffing clothes into it as fast as she could. From the beginning, she felt that C.W. was not a casual stranger, and she cursed herself for dilly-assing several hours away instead of trusting her instincts. Looking at the bedside clock, she tried to figure out how much time she had.
Several hours ago, she’d fallen and become aware of C.W., but who knew how long he’d been following her before that? Did he already know where she was staying? Did Marcus? Panicked, she raced to the bathroom and scooped up her toiletries, dropping several items on the floor before she could dump them in her bag. If he was driving, she rationalized, she had a chance, but if he flew, he might already be there.
Stopping, she ran to the window, searching the parking lot. Nothing, no sign of anything unusual. Forcing herself to take several deep breaths, she tried to control the urge just get out, leaving everything behind. Why the fuck was he even bothering anyway, she thought! Why didn’t he just leave her alone and let her go? Digging through her purse, she pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, drawing the smoke deep into her lungs. It’s a no-smoking room, her conscience warned. So, sue me, she answered, feeling slightly less frantic.
Five minutes later, she flicked the butt in the toilet and flushed, leaving the overhead fan on. Scanning the room one last time, she spotted the paper and carefully folded it, placing it in the outside pocket of her bag. If things went her way, it might be the last time she saw Marcus, even if it was only a picture. Why am I saving it, she wondered, as she tied her sneakers and slung her bag over her shoulder. Chugging her drink, she tossed the room key on the bed, opened the door and ran right into a brick wall.
Susan didn’t have to look up, or even open her eyes, to know who it was. The scent that was distinctly Marcus made her knees suddenly weak.
“Good, you’re ready,” he said, taking her by the arm. Picking up the bag that slipped from her slumped shoulders, he tossed it to another man and pulled her through the door, closing it behind her.
“God damn it,” she hissed, stomping her foot in frustration.
“My sentiments exactly,” Marcus replied as he pulled her down the hall.
“Listen you big, cheating jerk, I’m not going anywhere with you,” she yelled, digging the heels of her sneakers into the carpet and producing quite a drag.
Marcus turned, looked at her with narrowed eyes, grinned and gave a mighty yank that pulled her right off her feet and over his shoulder faster than she could comprehend.
“Watch your head, Red,” he advised as he opened the door to the stairwell and started down. “I really want you conscious.”
For once, Susan kept quiet. The sight of row after winding row of stairs, combined with being upside down, made her dizzy and the last thing she wanted to do was send them tumbling down. No, at this point she preferred to kill him herself.
It wasn’t until C.W. opened the exterior door ahead of them that she realized who he was.
“You son of a bitch,” she spat, wiggling for all she was worth now that they were on the ground. “Acting all nice and gentlemanly and all the time being a snake.”
“Sorry, babe, just doing my job,” he replied with a grin. “What you did wasn’t very nice either,” he scolded her. “I scared the hell out of that family.”
“Do you have any idea what this man is going to do to me?” she demanded, lifting her head and puffing her hair out of her eyes.
“I know what I’d do to you if you were my woman, Delilah,” he replied, tossing her bag into the trunk of a huge black limo. “After causing me sleepless nights fraught with worry, not to mention a small fortune, I’d paddle your ass, but that’s just my way.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing. He’s going to kill me,” she screamed, her legs kicked wildly as he opened the door for them. Marcus’s big hand was on her ass, and she swore she could feel it burning right through her jeans. His other arm tightened around her knees as she pummeled his back.
“Sugar, he just paid a hundred thousand dollars to get you back, I doubt he’s going to kill you. At least not right away,” he teased.
Marcus dumped her onto the seat and handed C.W. an envelope.
“See that her car gets transported to the lodge, not that she’s going to be allowed to drive it, but it does belong to her,” he instructed.
“No problem, and it’s been a pleasure doing business with you. You know, if you really don’t want her, I’d be happy to take her off your hands. After all, it’s only mo
ney,” he continued, offering the envelope back.
Marcus laughed as he shoved Susan back into the limo with a hand on her forehead without ever taking his eyes of C.W.
“Not in this lifetime,” he replied, shaking his hand.
“I didn’t think so. Hey, babe,” he said leaning into the car, “next time you should hide a little better. I’ll bet you’d be worth a quarter million.”
“Drop dead, asshole,” she spat, crossing her arms over her chest and flopping back, ignoring the wink he sent her way as he closed the door and rapped on the roof of the limo. Moving to the opposite seat, she glared at Marcus, her foot tapping on the floor.
“I don’t know what you hope to accomplish by kidnapping me, but it’s not going to work,” she insisted.
“We’ll see,” he replied as he calmly snapped open the briefcase that was lying on the seat. Shuffling through some paper, he took out a clipped bundle and took a pen from his pocket. “Come over here and sign these,” he said, nodding at the space beside him.
“No. What are they anyway?” she asked, trying not to notice the circles under his eyes.
“It’s an application for a marriage license; now get over here and sign it.”
Sue snorted and looked away. “Why would I want to sign it when you’re obviously engaged to marry someone else?”
“I am engaged to marry one woman and one woman only,” he said sharply, hanging on to his temper by a thread.
The Last Match Page 9