Undercover Fiancee

Annabelle blinked in surprise.

“What do you know about it?” he asked in a wry tone of voice.

In a matter of seconds she related the crux of her meeting with Trina, and the possible link to Rand’s problem.

He grinned. “This is one for the books. Technically speaking, our hands are tied because of FBI involvement. Unofficially however, you can stay her confidante and continue to probe, in case you should find a connection to Rand’s crisis which would be a real coup.

“We’ll both keep the lines of communication open with Trina and the Ludlows and see where things lead. If you can prove a tie-in, you’ll actually be helping two people without getting your hands slapped by the authorities for withholding evidence.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“Triple kudos for tracking down that Honda. Someone downtown called me on my cellular this morning. Apparently Mr. Vanderhoof has been singing your praises. You’ve made quite a conquest there. Better be careful. He’s a widower, and thinks you’re the most adorable creature to come along since Marilyn Monroe.”

Annabelle groaned.

“As I’ve said before, it’s good to have you on the team. Rand knew where to come to get results, Annabelle. Good luck.”

“Thanks. I’m going to need it.”

“Any time you want to talk, I’m available.”

“I know that.”

“Good. So I’ll leave you to deal with him.” There was a slight pause. “It isn’t often that a PI and her client have already made a connection which is so vital in our business. Because the ice has already been broken, so to speak, let it work for you, Annabelle.”

She nodded. In Rand’s case it was more like an iceberg that had been split apart by nature’s force. What you saw jutting above the surface of the water was pure camouflage for the huge mass of indecipherables below.

Praying she could carry this off so he would never know what his unexpected entry into her life had done to her, she walked back to Roman’s office where Rand lounged indolently in a chair, waiting...

She refused to look him in the eye. “Roman has asked me to take your case and I’ve agreed. Leave a number with the receptionist where you can be reached. Before the day is out, I’ll make contact with you. Goodbye.”

On that succinct note she hurried to the back room, pulled her cropped jacket from the rack and slipped it on over the fluid jersey top, both in a claret color. It was a good thing she didn’t pause for a bagel from the kitchen on her way out. Even if she had wanted one, three of the PI’s had already shown up for work and the food was fast disappearing.

The guys tried to get her to hang around and talk to them, but she told them she was working on a new case. Her best strategies for cracking one usually came when she went for a long ride on the old BMW. She had inherited the motorcycle from her dad. He’d died of a heart attack four years ago last January.

Annabelle had never known her mother, she had passed away following complications in childbirth. Her dad had chosen not to remarry. It had been the two of them all the way. Many was the time they’d ridden in tandem. She felt close to him whenever she got on it, like they were still a team, like he was whispering ideas to her, watching out for her.

It was Spring now. She always started to feel a little better by then. But come September and the blues attacked. By December she was in a dark funk. She couldn’t tolerate the blackness of January.

That’s when she went on vacation. She saved up all the time coming to her, then flew to Florida with Janet who was a bankruptcy attorney. The two of them lay out on a beach while they took turns reading books to each other.

This last January had been different. The loss of Rand had made it the bleakest, loneliest period of her life. She hadn’t been able to get interested in anything, least of all reading. Being on a trip only reminded her of things she wanted to forget. Even Janet proclaimed it a miserable failure and they’d gone home early.

Now, unbelievably, he was back in her life.

She headed into the towering Wasatch mountains east of Salt Lake. Snow still covered their peaks. Halfway up Parley’s canyon she happened to look in her sideview mirrors and saw that a motorcyclist was gaining on her. All in black, he looked big and dangerous.

Lots of cyclists tended to ride in packs, enjoying the camaraderie. But without her dad around, Annabelle preferred to be left alone. She couldn’t believe it when he sped up and pulled alongside her on the inside lane, adjusting his speed to match hers.

The Lamb’s canyon turnoff was coming up. She looked through her mirrors once more to make sure the light traffic was far enough away, then she headed for the side road.

Ten seconds later she saw that the dark stranger was still following her. Surprised at his aggression, she slowed down to negotiate a turn, then came to a stop and steadied her cycle with her shoe.

Still he rode closer.

When he was a yard away from her, he stopped and lifted his goggles. Only one man she knew had eyes that blue. She had to be hallucinating again. Since when did he ride a motorcycle?

“Rand—None of your stockholders would recognize you in that gear. I told you I would call you later.”

His mouth quirked. “I know that, but I felt like a breath of fresh air myself. When I saw you head for the mountains, I couldn’t resist joining you. Do you mind?”

He sat back on his bike and folded his arms. While he spoke, his eyes darkened with an intensity that she’d once come to recognize as desire.

Annabelle trembled. “That’s rather a moot point since you’re already here.”

She felt his gaze studying her features. “I’ve hired myself a crack PI and think the time could be more profitably spent by discussing the case over a late lunch.”

Actually, he was right. There was little point in running away from the inevitable. “Do you feel like a hamburger? I was planning to buy one when I reached Park City.”

His smile melted her bones. “Anything would taste better than falafel.”

“Isn’t that vegetarian?”

He nodded. “A woman I used to date was a vegan.”

Her body quickened. “Since you used the past tense, I assume she’s not the one mentioned in the Today’s Fortune article.”

He eyed her intently. “So you did read it. What did you think of the write-up?”

“The reporter did an excellent job of covering the facts.”

“Except for the part about there being a Mrs. Dunbarton in my near future.”

“Really.” Her heart was pounding so hard she feared he could hear it.

“That’s right. As for the vegetarian, her eating habits were not the reason we stopped seeing each other.”

“I see.”

She didn’t see at all. In fact the mention of any other women pierced her to the quick.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why?”

“It’s not something I need to know to help solve your case.”

“But you’re dying of curiosity.”

“What makes you say that?”