by Nancy Warren
The days took on a pattern. They’d sleep until they woke up, which was surprisingly early for people on vacation. It was as though there was so much to pack into the days, the surfing, beach walking and simple talking.
They’d wake up, either at her place or his, have breakfast together. She’d teach surfing, he’d practice surfing. They walked the beach, tried local restaurants. One day he drove her into San Diego and they spent a day being tourists.
Life was good. Easy. He knew he couldn’t stay indefinitely, but he couldn’t leave. Not yet. He made love to her every night and if it was possible, every time was better than the last. She was learning him, too. Learning all the things he loved, all the ways he liked to be pleased. He loved how much fun she was in bed, and how often she made him laugh, in bed and out.
They were lying side by side on the beach, their boards pulled up beside them, after a few good hours in the waves. He was already catching on enough that she offered a few pointers, but mostly left him to it.
The sun was warm and the sand as soft as icing sugar.
“You know what day Friday is?”
He was half asleep beside her. “No.”
“It’s my mother’s birthday.” She let out a sigh so heavy he was surprised it didn’t make a dent in the sand. “She said me marrying Ted was the best birthday present she could ask for.”
He shifted to make himself more comfortable. “Maybe she should marry him. He likes older women.”
“What?”
His eyes flew open. Damn. That wasn’t like him. He was usually a little better at keeping his mouth shut. Being a detective and all. He uncovered secrets. He didn’t blurt out the ones he knew.
“Nothing.”
She turned to face him. “That wasn’t nothing. You don’t say a man likes older women in that sarcastic way and then clam up. It’s very suspicious.”
“He had an older girlfriend in college,” he said, closing his eyes again and hoping she’d take the hint.
“Nick?” When he turned his head, she was staring at him with an expression that suggested she was not going to be easily fobbed off. Shit. “You might as well tell me. I’m only going to start guessing.”
“There’s a code.”
“What kind of a code?”
“An unspoken, between roommates code.”
She snorted. “Somebody should have told Sara that before she blabbed about the one and only time I got drunk in college.”
“It’s a men’s code.”
“Oh, come on. I’ve heard Ted and his buddies gossip. They’re worse than girls.”
He shook his head, deeply uncomfortable.
She scooched closer. “I am not going to marry the man so anything you can give me that makes me feel less guilty about dumping him right before the wedding would be really helpful.”
“You don’t have anything to feel guilty about. He hired me to try to seduce you.”
“I know.” She grinned over at him suddenly. “And apparently it worked. Oh, come on. I want to know.”
“This stays between us. Understood?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“When we were in college he always dated society girls. You know, the kinds with hyphenated last names who go to debutante balls.”
“Girls like me.”
He raised a finger. “We’ll get to that.” He blew out a breath. “So, he dated these girls. But he always had another woman on the side. She was always older, maybe a little raunchy. The kind of woman who could drink Ted under the table, who maybe had a tattoo or a piercing. The more she’d been around the block, the better.”
“You mean, while he was dating the bluebloods?”
He nodded. “The one who lasted the longest was a stripper.”
“A stripper. Ted dated a stripper?” She could not believe what she was hearing. “We are talking about Edward Carnarvon?”
“Yeah. Kind of shocked me too.”
“He dated a stripper?”
“Not exactly dated. It was more a secret thing.” He smiled in memory. “She was an interesting woman. She made these huge breakfasts for us. Liked to see us eat them. Anyway, I think those girls who were the right people for his parents weren’t right for him.”
“Ted’s stripper cooked you breakfast? She must have been a big part of his life, then. Somehow the breakfast cooking sounds more intimate than the sex with a stripper part.”
“There was a real connection there,” he admitted.
A frown had settled over her forehead. “He must have been really glad when I called off the wedding.”
“If he was he was stupid.”
“Thank you. I think.”
“Because in you he’d finally got it right. You are the best of both those women.”
She rolled up on one elbow, casting a shadow across his face. “You think I’m half stripper?”
“I thought the first time I saw you that Ted finally found her. A woman who is cool and proper on the outside, but who burns hot on the inside.”
“You make it sound like a thyroid disorder.”
He looped his arms around her and their gazes met. “Not.”
“But Ted never saw me that way.”
He watched her face, watched the play of emotions and the final eye-widening realization. “Is he still doing that? Keeping this hot, older woman on the side?”
“I wasn’t hired to investigate Ted,” he said shortly.
“He was.” He felt her beside him, thinking. Probably things were suddenly falling into place that hadn’t made sense before. “Oh, my God. The late squash games, the evenings he’d come in saying he’d had a late meeting, when I could smell the fresh shower smell of his hair. I thought he showered at the office so he’d be nice and fresh for me.” She sighed. “At least, that’s what I told myself.”
When he didn’t answer, because what could he say? She asked, “Is he still with the same woman? The stripper?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe I’m not a trained investigator like you are, but I can tell you’re lying. You tell me right now or I am going to confront Ted and ask him.”
He shook his head. “I really don’t know. I wouldn’t be surprised, though.”
She made a sound like a moan. “I used to think I was an intelligent woman. But I’m stupid. Stupid!”
“You are an intelligent woman. But you think the rest of the world plays by the same rules you do. Trust me, they don’t. You have integrity. Don’t make the mistake of believing other people have it.”
“Like Ted.”
He shrugged.
“What about you? Do you have integrity Nick?”
He returned her gaze steadily. “I try to. I know you think some of what I do relies on deception, and you’re right, but I try to operate by a code.”
“What’s her name?”
“Who?”
She glared at him. “Don’t play dumb. The stripper.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not going to go yell at her or anything. I would feel better if she had a name, so I didn’t have to refer to her as the stripper.”
“Marlene.”
“Marlene. Like Dietrich.”
“Like Dietrich,” he agreed. Then he reached out and put his hand on hers, bringing their linked hands up so they rested on his chest. “You deserve so much better.”
She looked at him as though doubting his words, and he wanted to prove to her somehow that she was the most amazing woman in the world. He wanted to slay dragons and win tournaments. Whatever heroes were supposed to do to prove their love. He was kind of fuzzy on the details, so he looked into her eyes and tried to let her know everything he felt without saying the words out loud.
He couldn’t believe how hard and fast he’d fallen.
People used to tell him he was too picky, too much of a player to settle down. But the simple truth was, he’d never met the right woman.
Until now.
He’d discovere
d that when he fell, he fell hard.
He was in love with Kate Winton-Jones and he had no idea how to proceed. He was new to the whole love thing and she was still bruised and shaken from her last go-around.
When Kate was off teaching her lessons, he checked in with his office. There were a couple of juicy cases pending and he knew he couldn’t stay away for long.
His time was running out.
While he was checking in with his Susan, he asked, “Has Edward Carnarvon called?”
“No.”
“Okay. Let me know if he does.”
If Ted hadn’t called off the wedding, and he hadn’t called Nick trying to convince him to find Kate, then there was only one other possibility.
He’d hired another detective.