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Tomorrow she would go down to breakfast, change her airline reservations, and tell Drew good-bye.
Lauren exhaled a deep, shaky sigh.
It would help if this time he wore a shirt.
Drew tucked in his long-sleeved T-shirt as he descended the stairs, perking up at the bottom when he heard the low sound of Lauren's voice. His interest died when he saw her in the den, talking on the phone. She would either be making arrangements with the airlines or giving the good news to stuffy, proper old Jeff. He didn't care to overhear either conversation.
The smell of coffee led him to the kitchen, where Gerald sat at the table reading the morning paper.
"What are you doing here? It's Sunday."
Gerald lowered the business section. "I wanted to hear how it went last night at the emba.s.sy. Besides, Steven's painting the kitchen and if I stay he'll make me help." When Drew merely nodded, Gerald prodded, "So what happened?"
Drew poured a cup of coffee and carried it to the table. Stirring in cream and sugar, he considered the best way to summarize their night. "Lauren charmed half a dozen dignitaries and got tipsy on champagne, and I nearly punched out our contact before we found out he was Meg's ex-lover and some sort of Romanian spook. He has a pretty convincing story about a couple of professional types who are seriously looking for Meg, one of them being the guy who co-starred in Meg's p.o.r.n collection. Then we left and someone tried to run us down and kill us. Are those jelly donuts?"
Gerald's eyes went wide behind his gla.s.ses as he pa.s.sed the box of donuts. "So not much, huh?"
"Right."
"Holy s.h.i.t," Gerald muttered. "Pardon my French." He sipped his coffee and thought for a minute. "Lauren can't go around posing as Meg anymore. She can't go out at all."
"I know. I'm sending her home today."
"Good." Gerald watched him closely. "You don't look too happy about that."
Drew turned a sharp glance his way but didn't answer. He'd already lost hours of sleep over Lauren, and it wasn't open for discussion. The need to keep her safe outweighed the odd, unsettled feeling he got in his chest whenever he looked at her. Not to mention the eager tightening in his groin.
They sat silently for a few minutes until Lauren wandered in. She gave Gerald a distracted greeting, then looked at Drew and bit her lip as she sat down.
At least she wasn't being perky about leaving. "What's wrong, isn't Jeff glad you're coming home?" Drew asked.
She looked up, apparently having a hard time focusing. "Hmm? Oh, yes. He is."
Drew frowned. "Lauren." He waited until her gaze cleared and settled on his. "What's wrong?"
She chewed her lower lip. "Nothing. Well, maybe something. Jeff said a man has been at his apartment twice, asking for me. He didn't leave his name, he just said it was personal."
Drew tensed. "Is he still there?"
"This morning? I don't know. Jeff drove by my apartment and said the guy was parked in front of the building for several hours last night."
Drew's thoughts were momentarily sidetracked. "Your apartment? You don't live with your fiance?"
She looked embarra.s.sed. "What's wrong with that? I like my independence."
She liked being able to get away from the man she was going to marry. He'd come back to that one later.
"What was Jeff's impression of the guy?"
She brushed it off impatiently. "He thought I must have won a sweepstakes contest, or something. The guy was friendly, but said he couldn't leave a message, he had to talk to me personally, so Jeff thinks I have to sign a big check."
"Or receive a summons," Gerald suggested. "Is there any reason you might be served? A car accident? A liability issue at work? A medical lawsuit?"
Lauren shook her head to everything. "No, none of those. Believe me, I lead an uneventful, dull life. No summons."
He set his cup down. "Okay, change of plans. I don't know what in the h.e.l.l Meg and my dad are involved in, but you can't go home, Lauren. Now they're looking for you and and your sister, and no offense, but Jeff doesn't sound like he'd provide much protection." your sister, and no offense, but Jeff doesn't sound like he'd provide much protection."
She didn't deny it. "But why? I don't have information, I didn't see anything, and I don't know why Meg and Harlan disappeared."
"Maybe those guys think you do."
Her eyes looked gray, all shadowy and somber. "This is getting too scary."
"I agree," Gerald said.
"d.a.m.n right. That's why you're going to have to stay in this house, at least until we know what's going on," Drew told her. If he could keep her out of the way, he might be able to contact some of his dad's friends without drawing attention, ask a few discreet questions, and-"
"No."
Drew and Gerald stared at her.
"Pardon me?" Gerald said.
The gray eyes were cool with disdain. "You are not keeping me locked in this house while you go running around on some manly quest for the truth. How do you know that car wasn't aiming at you last night? How do you know that the guys in black suits and black cars aren't searching the Colorado caves, or wherever the h.e.l.l you live, looking for you, too?"
Gerald choked on a laugh. "Caves? Have you seen-?"
"Not now," Drew cut him off with a wave of his hand. He narrowed a thoughtful glance at Lauren. "Good point. I'll call some people and check." He smiled. "The neighbors in the cave next to mine."
"Go ahead."
He looked at his watch. He might wake someone up, but oh well.
The first call to the lodge manager got no results outside of a grumpy request to get home before the ski season was over, but a call to one of the counselors told him what he didn't want to hear.
Lauren and Gerald looked up expectantly when he returned to the table.
"You're right, a couple guys were asking for me. They said they were with some alternative school back east, but Duane said they didn't seem to know much about our programs."
Lauren's brow creased. "What programs? You have cla.s.ses on how to be a snow bunny?"
"That's not important," he said, brushing her question aside, but noted the way Gerald watched with interest. d.a.m.n, that man picked up on everything. "The point is, they're looking for me, too. After our close call with the car, we have to a.s.sume they aren't interested in asking a few polite questions."
No one spoke. Gerald appeared lost in thought, which meant he was in problem-solving mode. Having his father's a.s.sistant as a resource was rea.s.suring, but Lauren still looked scared. Her fingernails were now in danger of being gnawed to their nail beds, and her gracefully arched brows were drawn flat with concern. Drew resisted the impulse to reach across the table and smooth a finger over those creases, to coax the spirit and determination back into her eyes. For some reason he had to keep fighting the urge to protect Lauren, even though she seemed perfectly capable of taking care of herself in most respects.
Except in love. In that area she seemed remarkably obtuse, deluding herself into believing she loved a man who was obviously wrong for her. He'd spent the night thinking of nothing else and was pretty sure he understood her problem. In her determination to be the family paragon of virtue, Lauren had tied herself to a man certain to keep her that way. A sensible, safe life with no adventure, no daring, no fun. Drew longed to show her what she was missing, to make those intriguing eyes sparkle with excitement.
His pulse quickened at the thought. And since she wouldn't be leaving now, he might get the chance to make it happen. h.e.l.l, he would make sure he got the chance. Sparkling eyes weren't nearly enough; he wanted to see her glow with desire. Make her heart race, her breath catch, and her body convulse with- "We need a plan," she said.
He raised an eyebrow at her and smiled. He was already formulating one. "Oh, I agree."
A suspicious twitch made her eyes narrow before she nodded and relaxed. "Good. It'll be better if we can work together on this."
"Absolutely."
His easy agreement seemed to have her puzzled. She asked cautiously, "Do you have any ideas?"
"I certainly do."
"Great." She folded her arms on the table, leaning closer. "Let's hear it."
He lowered his voice confidentially. "It involves that dress you wore last night. Except without all the people and a lot less champagne." His glance slid toward Gerald, then back to her. "Are you sure you want me to get specific right now?"
"Yes," Gerald cut in. "We do."
Her eyes widened with shock, then turned stormy.
He smiled. If he couldn't have heated pa.s.sion, he'd take heated anger. Not like that predictable, emotionless excuse for romance she was used to. Lauren didn't know it, but she was about to be liberated.
She should have seen it coming. The man was incapable of rational thought.
"Shut up," she snapped.
"I'm trying to help."
"I'll do without it. You're impossible."
Drew's lips slid into a crooked smile and her mind went fuzzy. "On the contrary. I intend to be very easy."
She pictured him being very easy very easy while she had her way with him again, and her nude fantasy returned with full force. Wonderfully sensitive parts of her grew hot with antic.i.p.ation. while she had her way with him again, and her nude fantasy returned with full force. Wonderfully sensitive parts of her grew hot with antic.i.p.ation.
"Ooh, my, this is an interesting development," Gerald said.
Lauren started. She'd forgotten about Gerald.
Removing his gla.s.ses, Gerald huffed a quick breath on each lens, polishing them with a napkin before returning them to his face. He scooted forward. "This is good. Don't stop now." He made an encouraging wave at Lauren. When she just stared, he looked between them. Considering the standoff, he smiled happily and wagged a finger at them both. "This time I'm pretty sure you two didn't have a fight."
"We didn't," Drew told him, his gaze still locked on hers. "In fact, Lauren was very friendly last night."
"Bite me," she said.
Drew grinned and wiggled an eyebrow. The heat spread to her fingers and toes.
"You don't say," Gerald said thoughtfully. "Details. Give me the details."
"No," they said in unison.
Gerald waited, but when they continued to ignore him, he sniffed his disappointment. "Okay, I can take a hint. I'll give you two fifteen minutes to come up with that plan, or I'm going home to help Steven paint the kitchen. Let me know if you figure out how to play nice with each other." He grabbed a m.u.f.fin and left the room.
Lauren looked at Drew. On the positive side, she was so annoyed that she wasn't the least bit tempted to kiss him again. On the negative side, she was lying to herself; she was aching to kiss him again. She wanted to throw herself at him, lick his mouth all the way back to his tonsils, then open his shirt and work her way down his body. Her vision blurred just thinking about it.
"Are you hungover?"
"What?" She jolted back to reality. "Of course not."
"Because you look a little out of it. And you were awfully drunk last night."
"I wasn't the least bit drunk."
d.a.m.n. It was out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying.
Drew grinned, his direct gaze holding hers, before roaming over her hair, her face, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "So you remember everything everything that happened. That's good to know," he said. that happened. That's good to know," he said.
She sucked in a shaky breath. "Why are you doing this to me?" It came out more whispery and pathetic than she'd intended.
"Because we both want me to."
She had no response to that. Groaning, Lauren propped her elbows on the table and dropped her head into her hands, clutching her hair. "We are not not talking about this. We are going to come up with a plan to find my sister and your father, and figure out what's going on." talking about this. We are going to come up with a plan to find my sister and your father, and figure out what's going on."
He sipped his coffee and considered her demand. "Okay."
"Okay?" She looked up suspiciously. "You mean you'll help me come up with a plan?"
"Not exactly." He held up a hand when he saw her temper flare. "I won't try to talk you out of it, because I understand how you feel. I feel the same way. But we start by talking to the Secret Service. That keeps you out of the line of fire, and they might have some leads by now."
"Fine." Now he was being sensible.
Drew leaned forward. "Then we talk about it." we talk about it."
From the intensity of his gaze, she had no doubt what "it" was. Her insides squirmed, and she looked away. "I think it would be best if we forgot it," she mumbled.
"Not possible."
She refused to meet his eyes, afraid of the way they made her heart flutter and her body want to do inappropriate things. A desire to run for safety, to call Jeff again, rose like panic in her chest.
"Don't run from me, Lauren," Drew said, his voice soft and low as he read her thoughts.
She looked up, startled. This was not fair. Her engagement ring was supposed to ward off advances from other men, but Drew wasn't following the rules. And she wasn't nearly as disinterested as she was supposed to be. Before she could figure out why, her thoughts were interrupted by an urgent shout.
"Hey! Get in here, quick!"
They turned in alarm, then pushed back their chairs and dashed toward the living room. Gerald stood before the TV, his half-eaten m.u.f.fin on the coffee table.
"Look at this!" His finger jabbed toward the TV screen. "You neglected to mention this."
Lauren's eyes widened with surprise. "Hey, that's me! Why am I on TV?"
Drew stepped closer. "And me. And that's the fat guy we met, what's his name, Childers. What-"