Bayou Payback. Joanna WayneЧитать онлайн книгу.
time to lie.
“I hate to interrupt you,” the woman said, her tone and manner all business. “Mr. Delacroix asked me to find you.”
“Is there a problem?”
“Yes, ma’am. He said the mayor has been held up and he’s not certain he can make it in time for the formalities.”
“Oh, dear. We can’t start without him. He’s giving Lee’s congratulatory speech.”
Marilyn turned her eyes if not her attention back to Remy. “Perhaps we can talk later. In the meantime, enjoy yourself. I know you must be as proud of Lee as we are.”
“Absolutely. He’s a breed unto himself.”
“My husband says it’s about time Lee received recognition for all he’s done for the city.”
And Remy was here to see that Lee got exactly what was coming to him. the sins of old had ridden long enough. It was payback time.
By the time Remy reached the ballroom, it was teeming with guests. Couples rocked the dance floor to the beat of a loud, jarring tune Remy had never heard before and with any luck would never hear again.
He scanned the room, growing antsy when he still didn’t spot Lee. Surely the guy wasn’t late to a party given in his honor.
Finally the band took a break. Remy’s ears enjoyed the moment until a woman’s laughter caught him off guard, so hauntingly familiar it sliced into his heart.
He took a deep breath. His mind was playing cruel tricks on him. he had to get a grip. He’d known returning to New Orleans would bring back the old memories, but he couldn’t let anything get in the way of what he’d come to do.
Yet when he heard the laughter again, he found himself walking toward the sound until he spotted the woman responsible for the free-spirited exuberance. She was facing away from him, but the straight, silky red hair that reached her shoulders was so much like Carlotta’s that Remy had to struggle to breathe.
She was taller than Carlotta, or perhaps the height came from the silver heels that peeked from below a swirl of emerald-green silk. Her waist was as narrow as Carlotta’s had been, her shapely hips well-defined.
Damn. Start falling prey to old desires and he’d make a fool of himself. Carlotta was dead. The woman with the lyrical laugh and burnished red hair was a stranger. Still, he was far too intrigued at this point to walk away without seeing her face.
He circled her and the young woman at her side, keeping his distance, but not so far away that he couldn’t see the fullness of her red lips or the nose that turned up ever so slightly. Her smile was dazzling. Her features were striking. She was an absolute knockout.
She wasn’t Carlotta.
He exhaled slowly, regaining a much-needed sense of equilibrium. But then their gazes met and for a second a sense of déjà vu ran so strong that it rocked his soul.
He turned away, exchanged his empty glass for a full one from the tray of a timely waiter and strode toward the double doors that led to the back loggia. He needed fresh air and to put some space between himself and the tantalizing redhead.
NICOLE SMITH’S GAZE followed the sexy stranger as he walked away. She was certain she’d never seen him before, yet for one brief moment, she’d felt as if she were drowning in the depths of his whiskey-colored eyes.
Her friend Deanie nudged her with her shoulder. “Who is that luscious creature and why haven’t I met him before?”
“I’ve never seen him before, either, but he must be a friend of Lee’s,” Nicole answered. “Likely someone on the police force.”
“May the force be with me.”
“Your husband might object.”
“Oh, yeah, him,” Deanie teased. “But you’re not married, and you’re the one he was staring at. Go check him out.”
“I’m here with Lee.”
“Exactly.”
Deanie made no secret of her negativity where Lee was concerned. She thought he was arrogant and chauvinistic, but it was only because she didn’t know him the way Nicole did. Sure, he was tough. He was a cop who’d risen through the ranks. But he had his sensitive side, and he spoiled her in so many ways that she actually wished she were sexually attracted to him.
“Go say hello to the hot stranger,” Deanie urged. “You know you want to.”
“If I do, it’s only because he looks vaguely familiar and I’m wondering if we’ve met before.”
“That’s as good an excuse as any to start up a conversation with a gorgeous hunk.” Deanie put a hand to the small of Nicole’s back and gave her a gentle shove in the stranger’s direction.
“I’ll go introduce myself if you go with me,” Nicole said.
“You are such a wimp, Nicole. Besides, I’m going to find Billy. Suddenly I’m in the mood for a little romantic adventure of my own.”
“If Marilyn catches you having a quickie in one of the upstairs bedrooms, you’ll be blacklisted forever.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. Too stuffy. I’m thinking about under the fake stars in the back of the Delacroixes’ Saint Charles Avenue garden. How often does a lowly nurse get a chance to do that?”
Deanie sashayed off before Nicole could come up with an appropriate response. Deanie was bright, witty, daring, candid and totally unimpressed with money or social status.
The only reason she and her husband were here tonight was because Nicole had asked Lee to add them to the invitation list. Having Deanie around made these occasions a lot more fun for Nicole and she knew she couldn’t duck out of this one, not when tonight was all about Lee.
Lee—her date for the evening, and yet here she was, drawn to a sexy stranger with mesmerizing eyes and a killer body.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she turned and joined him on the balcony.
Chapter Two
“It’s a nice night for a party,” Nicole murmured as she stopped next to the stranger.
When he turned to face her, a ridiculous zinging sensation danced along her nerve endings.
“A splendid night,” he agreed. “And it just got a whole lot better.”
A slow burn crept to her cheeks. Impulsively, she checked his ring finger. It was bare. “I love spring in New Orleans,” she said, directing the subject back to the weather.
“So do I. But blink twice and it will have turned into the humid heat of summer.”
“Ah, you know the city. Do you live here?” she asked.
“I used to—a lifetime ago.”
Edginess crept into his voice, making him all the more intriguing.
“Are you a friend of Lee’s?”
“You could say that.”
“I’m sure he’ll be glad you made the party.”
“If I ever run into him. I’m beginning to think he dodged his own celebration.”
“He’s here somewhere,” Nicole assured him, “probably surrounded by well-wishers or talking police business.”
“No doubt.”
She put out a hand. “I’m Nicole Smith. You look familiar. Have we met before?”
“No. If we had, I’m sure I’d remember.”
His hand wrapped around her much smaller one and he held it. Her pulse quickened.
“I’m Andre,”