Once Upon a Wedding / Accidental Princess. Nancy Robards ThompsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
he? Just because he’d indulged in a minor fantasy—discovering the five freckles on Kelsey’s cheek did combine to make a perfect star—didn’t mean he was losing his grip on the situation. He had everything under control, even if that starshaped outline made him wonder what other patterns he might find on Kelsey’s body…
Far too aware of the bed only a few feet away and Kelsey’s teasing scent, that alluring combination of cinnamon and spice, Connor redirected his focus. “Are you hungry? I could order more room service.”
“No, thank you.” Her words were too polite, bordering on stiff, and they matched her posture.
“All right,” he said, thinking it just as well they get out of the hotel room before he ended up doing something as stupid as touching Kelsey…and not stopping. “But you really don’t want to go on a stakeout on an empty stomach.” Connor didn’t know if his sudden announcement loosened anything, but Kelsey definitely looked shaken.
“Stakeout?” Echoing the word, her brown eyes widened.
“Don’t worry. We’ll stop for staples along the way.” He grabbed her hand, pulled her from the room and out into the hall.
She protested every step of the way and all throughout the elevator ride down to the lobby. “Are you insane? I am not going on a stakeout.”
Her voice dropped to a hiss as the elevator door opened, and she even managed a smile at the elderly couple waiting in the lobby.
“You agreed to this, remember? Equal partners?”
As he strode across the lobby, Connor realized Kelsey was practically running to keep up with his long strides, and he slowed his steps.
Jeez, it’d be faster if he picked her up and carried her. A corner of his mouth lifted at the thought of Kelsey’s reaction if he tried. “You really are tiny, aren’t you?”
“I—What?”
She bumped into him when Connor paused for the automatic doors to open. He had the quick impression of soft breasts against his back before Kelsey jumped away.
Tiny, he decided as he looked over his shoulder with an appreciative glance, but curved in all the right places.
Something in his expression must have given his thoughts away. Kelsey glared at him. “I am not going on a stakeout.”
“How are we going to find anything out about Todd if we don’t watch him?”
“I thought you’d hire someone!”
“Right. Because the Wilsons would believe whatever some guy I paid has to say about their golden boy.”
Score one for the away team, Connor thought, when Kelsey stopped arguing. Pressing his advantage, he guided her outside. “Besides,” he added, “staking people out is what I do.”
“You—you’re a cop?”
He couldn’t blame her for the shock in her voice and gave a scoffing laugh. “No. I’m a private investigator. Turns out we’re both professionals,” he said. “And if it makes you feel any better, I do have a friend working another lead. But he’s in St. Louis.”
“What’s in St. Louis?”
“A maid who used to work for the Dunworthy family. She either quit or was let go a few months ago.”
“So?”
“She pretty much disappeared after that, and I want to hear what she has to say about her former employers.”
Midmorning sunlight glinted off the line of luxury cars brought around by the valets: Lexus, BMW, Mercedes. He’d come a long way from his bike days. Too bad. He would have enjoyed getting Kelsey on a Harley. Once she loosened up a bit, she’d love the freedom of hugging the curves, wind whipping through her hair, speed pouring through her veins. He could almost feel her arms around his waist…
Kelsey waved toward the visitor’s lot. “We can take my car.”
It didn’t look like loosening up would happen anytime soon. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I’ll bet Dunworthy has already seen your car.”
Connor signaled a valet, and within minutes a vintage black Mustang pulled up to the curb. Seeing the question in Kelsey’s eyes, he explained, “It’s Javy’s. Something less flashy would be better for surveillance, but borrowers can’t be choosers.”
He tipped the valet and opened the passenger door for Kelsey. When she looked ready to argue, he said, “Todd has a big meeting at his office.” He’d looked up the address after Emily left. “I’m curious to find out who it’s with. How ’bout
you?”
As she slid into the passenger seat, Kelsey muttered something he couldn’t quite make out.
Connor figured it was just as well.
“I cannot believe I’m doing this,” Kelsey muttered from her slumped-down position in the passenger seat.
“You’ve mentioned that,” Connor replied.
They were parked in a lot across the street from Todd’s office. The row of two-story suites lined a busy side street off Scottsdale Road, the black glass and concrete a sharp contrast to the gold and russet rock landscape, with its clusters of purple sage, flowering bougainvillea and cacti. Connor had circled the building when they first arrived, noting all the building’s entrances and confirming Todd’s car wasn’t in the lot.
“What if someone sees us?”
“What are they going to see?” he retorted.
She supposed from a distance the car did blend in. Thanks to heavily tinted windows, it was unlikely anyone could see inside. Tilting the vents to try to get a bit more air to blow in her direction, Kelsey admitted, “This is a bit more boring than I expected.”
“Boring is good,” Connor insisted. Despite his words, he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel in an impatient rhythm, clearly ready for action.
“I’m surprised Emily didn’t tell me more about your job.”
“Why would she?”
“Because to anyone not sitting in this car, being a P.I. sounds exciting.” When Connor stayed silent, she asked, “Do you like it?”
“Yeah. Most of the time.”
The tapping on the steering wheel increased like the sudden peaks on a lie detector, and Kelsey sensed he was telling her not what he thought she wanted to hear, but what he wanted to believe. Something had happened to change his mind about the job she suspected he’d once loved. “It must be difficult. Seeing so much of the darker side of life.”
“It can be. Sometimes human nature is dark, but at least my job is about discovering the truth.”
Was it only her imagination, or had he emphasized that pronoun? Subtly saying that while he pursued truth and justice, she—“You think my job is about telling lies?”
“Selling lies,” he clarified.
“I promise a beautiful wedding and give the bride and groom what they’re looking for. That’s not a lie.”
“Okay,” he conceded, “maybe not the beautiful wedding part, but the sentiment behind it? Happily-ever-after? Love of a lifetime? Till death do us part? Come on!”
“Not every marriage ends with the bride and groom riding off into the sunset. Real life comes with real problems, but if two people love each other, they work it out.”
He snorted. “Not from my side of the video camera, they don’t.”
Irritation crackled inside her like radio static—annoying, incessant and almost loud enough to drown out a vague and misplaced feeling of disillusionment. All these years, she’d heard about Connor and