Our Little Secret Page 7

  “No, but he’s cute when he gets all gruff and grumpy.” He slid a glance at Lauren. “Don’t you think?”

  She almost answered that Drew was far too masculine and sexy to be called cute, but stopped in time. Waving a finger in Gerald’s face, she said, “Uh-uh, you aren’t playing those games with me. I have no opinions about Drew Creighton.”

  “Whatever you say, honey.” He patted her hand and winked. “Denial is cute, too.”

  “Shut up.” Lauren gave him an irritated swat but wondered just how transparent her face was when she looked at Drew. Half the time she was annoyed with the man, and when she wasn’t, she tried hard not to notice how his upper lip had a sexy little curve, or how incredibly well his jeans fit. She thought she’d hid it well. But as the detective said, Gerald was very observant. She’d have to remember that. She’d also have to do a better job of remembering Jeff.

  She hurried after Drew. He was standing in the open doorway, speaking to Detective Rasmussen.

  “Listen, can we keep this stuff about my father out of the press?” Drew said. “If they turn up in a motel in Fairfax, having a belated honeymoon, it might be kind of embarrassing.”

  “Sure, no problem. Good night, Mr. Creighton.”

  She ground her teeth. As soon as Drew shut the door, she asked, “A belated honeymoon? Are you serious?”

  “Of course not. But I don’t want anything in the media until we know what’s going on.” After a second’s reflection, he added, “Probably not then, either. You never know what might damage re-election chances.”

  She marched after him into the living room. “You’ve got to be kidding. Your father and my sister have disappeared under suspicious circumstances, and you’re worried about damaging his chances at re-election?”

  “Believe me, Dad would want me to consider it.” He stopped as he saw the large suitcase and briefcase on the floor. “What’s this?”

  “It’s mine. I packed it when I went to wash up.”

  He turned toward her, frowning. “Going somewhere?”

  She’d known he’d object. From what she’d seen, Drew was used to taking charge of situations, a natural leader like his father. He probably wasn’t used to defiance.

  “I think I should stay at Meg’s old apartment. They just got married this week, so I’m sure it’s still leased to her. I can look through her things for a clue to what’s going on, like you did here.”

  “I don’t think so.” He grabbed the suitcase and started toward the stairs. “Don’t you think those two men might look for her at the apartment?”

  “But you said they knew she lived here.”

  “Yes, but here you won’t be alone, and there’s a good security system.”

  Lauren watched as he went upstairs without waiting for an answer. In the kitchen doorway, Gerald lounged against the doorframe. “Protective,” he mouthed silently, and winked.

  She gave him a stern look as she grabbed her briefcase and followed Drew. Way to be defiant, she grumbled to herself. But he’d found her weak spot—security. She wasn’t eager to meet the armed kidnappers again.

  He tossed the large suitcase on the bed like it weighed no more than her briefcase.

  “If you need anything, I’m right across the hall.”

  “What?” She dropped the briefcase. She’d assumed he’d only stayed last night to help Gerald search the house. “You’re staying here, too?”

  One eyebrow lifted in mild surprise. “Yes. I said you wouldn’t be alone if you stayed here.”

  “I thought you meant Gerald.”

  “Gerald only works here. He has his own house.”

  “Don’t you?” She didn’t mean to sound rude, but he had to be in his midthirties. Drew didn’t seem like the type who would still live at home with Dad.

  “Yes, in Colorado.” He looked her over, head cocked, his mouth pulled sideways with wry amusement. “Are you afraid to stay here alone with me, Aunt Lauren?”

  Not until he’d looked at her like that. Tiny prickles raced over her shoulders, and her insides squirmed. Mortified, she reminded herself that she had a fiancé who fulfilled all her squirming desires quite, um, adequately. Imagining Drew in that role was unacceptable.

  “Why would I be afraid of my own nephew?” she asked, glad he’d tacked on that reminder of their family relationship.

  He smiled with a lazy confidence she found unsettling. “I didn’t mean to suggest you would. I thought you might be afraid of your own—” He paused while he raked her with another gaze. “—impulses.”

  Heat rose to her face. First Gerald and now Drew. She might as well have “Lauren is hot for Drew” written on a T-shirt. “You’d better hope so, because my impulse is to kick you again.”

  He smiled. “Feeling threatened, huh?” Before she could come up with a huffy retort, he added, “Come downstairs when you’ve unpacked. I’ll see if I can find us something to eat.”

  She stood frozen in place until he was gone, desperately fighting the desire to massacre another nail. Ah, hell with it. She stuck her finger in her mouth and viciously bit at number four. Between her missing sister and her hot nephew, she didn’t give the remaining six long odds for survival.

  Drew lined up all the condiments he could find on the kitchen island next to the meat and cheese. He was slathering mayo on a slice of rye when Lauren walked in.

  From the corner of his eye he could see she’d changed into jeans. He could no longer see those appealing legs, but the jeans hugged her even-more-appealing hips and butt. Even though he had no intention of sampling the merchandise, he enjoyed looking.

  Drew would never make a serious move on the sister of one of his dad’s bimbos. He knew their type well. Typically, the senator’s female “friends” were short on morals and long on ambition, neither of which appealed to him. He’d give up women entirely before he’d mess with the sexually aggressive game-playing nymphets he’d met in Washington. Even if Meg Sutherland hadn’t made off with his mother’s jewelry—yet—he was sure she had some nefarious motive for marrying a man thirty-three years her senior. At the least, she was probably obsessed with power and prestige, hoping to move up to an even more politically influential lover. If Lauren was anything like her sister, her unknown fiancé had his condolences.

  But there was the little matter of the chemistry between them. Drew had enough experience with women to know that physical attraction went beyond the superficial tits and ass consideration. After the initial “wow, what a babe” reaction, there was something more. An unexplained tingle when they touched, or a pleasant flash of heat in his groin when a particular woman smiled into his eyes. He’d felt it before, but not like this. With Lauren, the tingle had almost been a visible jolt of electricity arcing between them, and the flash was a hot rush of sexual desire that aroused thoughts of crushing her to his chest and kissing her breathless. He knew she felt it too. She hid it well, but he saw her green eyes widen and her breath catch when he touched her. The sexual tension was intriguing as hell. It was too bad he couldn’t do anything about it.

  The object of his fantasies was standing on the opposite side of the kitchen island, watching his preparations. He took a second look at her. Not green eyes—gray. Strange. He could have sworn they were green.

  “Help yourself,” he told her, applying mustard to a second slice of bread. “I’m not much of a cook, but I found enough to make sandwiches. I was hoping for something hot, but Gerald is Dad’s secretary, not his cook, as he informed me just before he left. So this is it.”

  “Gerald’s gone?”

  The timid question made him glance up, and it happened again. As soon as his gaze met those luminous eyes he could feel the electricity spark between them. This time it came with a predatory impulse that told him how simple it would be to turn those little shocks into a bolt of lightning that could set them both on fire. Tempting, but not wise.

  He kept his voice nonchalant. “It’s late, Lauren. He’ll be back in the morning. Have somethin
g to eat.”

  “I’m too worried to eat.”

  “Suit yourself.” He wasn’t about to feel guilty for having an appetite.

  She frowned as he piled more meat on his sandwich. “Isn’t there anything else we can do?”

  He flicked a quick glance at her, his mouth twitching with amusement at the thought of what else they could do. But she was talking about her sister, so he answered seriously. “You can help me look through my dad’s office for some clue to what he’s been involved in lately,” he told her. “After I eat.”

  She pursed her lips but didn’t say anything. He waited for another fingernail to get nibbled off, but she began twisting a lock of hair instead. He smiled and took a leisurely bite of his sandwich.

  The kitchen phone rang midway through chewing his first bite. After three rings Lauren said, “Aren’t you going to get that?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t live here. It’s not for me. Let the machine get it.”

  She didn’t seem happy with his answer. Probably the responsible, compulsive type who felt she had to respond to every request and jump at every summons. She fidgeted while the machine played its recorded message. Drew waited for the caller to hang up or leave some boring “call me when you can” request. What he heard next stopped his mouth in mid-bite.

  “Drew? Are you there? Pick up if you are.”

  Drew lowered his sandwich. His father.

  A female voice cut in as if someone had grabbed the phone from him, adding, “Lauren, are you there?”

  For one frozen second they both stared across the kitchen, then they both scrambled for the receiver. Drew reached it first, but tilted it toward Lauren so she could listen too.

  “Dad? What’s going on? Where are you?”

  Lauren’s excited voice cut across his. “Meg! Are you okay?”

  “Lauren!” the woman’s voice answered joyously, before Senator Creighton chimed in. “I’m fine. We’re both fine. Sorry if you were worried.”

  “Dad, I called the police! No one knew where you’d gone, and Gerald hasn’t seen Meg since Tuesday.”

  Lauren’s hand closed over his as she forced the phone closer to her mouth. “Meg, someone thinks I’m you, and they tried to kidnap me! What’s going on?”

  An odd moment of silence hung in the air, and as Lauren’s concerned gaze locked with Drew’s, the moment nearly took his breath away.

  “I’m sorry, Lauren, really. I didn’t think it would get dangerous for you. I just needed to get away from them. When they realize you’re not me, they’ll leave you alone.”

  Maybe Lauren had heard numerous apologies for idiotic adventures in the past, because she didn’t seem to be moved by Meg’s words. “Who are ‘they’?” she demanded.

  Drew wanted to know the answer to that one, too, but instead his father’s voice interrupted. “We can’t tell you, but we think we’re out of danger for now.”

  “Danger? What sort of danger?” Lauren’s voice was edged with panic.

  “Never mind,” Senator Creighton answered. “If we tell you, then you’ll be in danger, too. Just stay out of it.”

  “Please, Lauren,” Meg implored. “Let us handle it. We know what we’re doing.”

  Lauren didn’t seem reassured. Drew was pretty sure his dad could take care of himself, but he didn’t want to see Lauren worry over her sister’s safety for however long it took them to “handle” things. Besides, she was running out of fingernails.

  He tilted the phone back toward his mouth. “You’ll have to do better than that. We don’t even know what or who to avoid.”

  “Everyone,” his dad’s voice replied firmly. “Just stay where you are, and we’ll explain when we get back.”

  “When will that be?”

  It didn’t seem like a difficult question, but it received a lot of thought at the other end of the line. Finally, his dad’s voice said, “I don’t know. It could be a while. Just wait. We’ll call again when we can, okay? Take care.”

  He sounded hurried. “Dad, hold on a second—”

  “Sorry, son, gotta run. We’re on a tight schedule.”

  “Watch Capitol Talk!” Meg added quickly.

  A second later the phone clicked off. Drew laid the phone back in the cradle and turned to Lauren.

  “What the hell was that?” he growled. “We still don’t know what’s going on.”

  She shook her head and twisted a lock of hair. “What’s Capitol Talk?”

  “It’s a local show that’s half news, half rumor and gossip.” He headed back to the island for his sandwich. He’d think better with food in his stomach.

  “When is it on?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t live here, remember? I just visit occasionally.”

  “Morning, afternoon, or evening, do you know that much?” Her voice was edgy with anxiety.

  “Beats me. Check the TV listing.”

  “I’m not going to waste time tracking it down.” She grabbed the phone, marched over to him and slapped it into his hand. “Ask Gerald.” When he raised his eyebrows, she told him impatiently, “He seems to know everything else. I’m sure he’ll know that.” She pointed at the phone. “Hurry up. I don’t want to miss whatever the hell she’s talking about.”

  He smiled and began pressing numbers. “Results oriented, aren’t you? What do you do for a living?”

  “Financial management.” Her finger tapped rapidly on the countertop while he held the phone to his ear. He laid his free hand on top of her fingers, stilling them.

  “Hi, Steven? It’s Drew Creighton. Is Gerald there?” Drew said into the phone. He waited about ten seconds, aware the whole time of the way her hand had frozen beneath his. But she didn’t pull away. “Gerald? We’ve heard from Dad and Meg.” He cut off the expected barrage of questions with, “I’ll tell you about it later. They said we’re supposed to watch Capitol Talk. When is it on?”

  He could hear the surprise in Gerald’s voice when he answered, “Right now. I’m watching it. Channel six.”

  “Thanks.” Drew hung up the phone. “It’s on now,” he told Lauren, finally feeling some of her anxiety. “Come on.” Pulling on the hand he’d been holding, he tugged her toward his father’s office, the closest room with a TV. Her warm fingers squeezed his as they rushed along, then pulled away when they entered the dark room and he turned on the TV. They stared at the silver blur of a sports car as it slid across wet pavement to the bass-heavy sound of rock music.

  Lauren sighed with frustration at the commercial and stuck a fingernail between her teeth.

  “Bad habit. Relax,” he told her quietly. He pulled her hand away and held it gently in his. She didn’t resist, just bit her lip and stared at the screen. He entwined their fingers, enjoying the softness of her hand while telling himself it was only to keep her from decimating her remaining nails.

  After another minute of commercials and two minutes of the first lady speaking at a charity luncheon, Drew stiffened and felt Lauren’s fingers tighten around his. Behind the female anchor, an insert photo of Senator Creighton beamed out at them.

  “And in our hearts and flowers segment today,” the woman said, “Capitol Hill was taken by surprise when Texas Senator and notorious ladies’ man Harlan Creighton unexpectedly announced his marriage to his secretary, Megan Sutherland.” She emphasized the word “secretary,” as if listeners might have missed the significance of Meg’s lowly position. “Dana Zamecki caught up with the happy couple at the airport shortly before they boarded a plane for the Virgin Islands.” The screen flashed to a reservation desk where Meg clung to Senator Creighton’s arm, both smiling self-consciously into the camera as a pretty, blonde reporter stuck a microphone in their faces.

  “Senator, you’ve been difficult to find since the announcement of your marriage,” she said.

  Drew recognized the practiced chuckle his father was able to emit at will. “Well, that was the plan, Dana. And we almost snuck out of town without getting caught.” He tipped his head
in amused acknowledgment. “Now, don’t you put this on the air until we’re outta here,” he said, letting a down-home Southern drawl creep into his voice. It always played well in the public opinion polls. “Newlyweds deserve a little privacy on their honeymoon.” Drew nearly choked as his father looked fondly at Meg. She gazed adoringly into his eyes before they turned and headed for the VIP security line.

  The picture flashed back to the anchorwoman. “We don’t know Senator and Mrs. Creighton’s final destination, but his office assures us it will be a short trip, due to the upcoming hearing on the senator’s offshore drilling bill.”

  “Huh,” Drew snuffed. “His office. Nice of them to contact us with the news. I wonder when that was?”