Our Little Secret Page 8

  The picture changed to the next story, and Drew automatically hit the mute button. He stared at the silent TV while his mind tried to grasp what he’d seen. Lauren hadn’t moved, apparently as stunned as he was.

  The ringing desk phone jolted him out of his trance. Reluctantly, he released Lauren’s hand and picked it up, knowing who it would be. “We saw it,” he said in greeting.

  “That was weird!” Gerald pronounced.

  “In what way?” Drew had his own opinion, but no one had spent more time with Harlan Creighton over the past ten years than his personal secretary.

  “They don’t act like that. At least, not in front of me. The senator never gets that goofy expression on his face. And Megan was hanging on him, and practically dripping syrup all over him. You don’t know her, Andrew, but let me tell you, Megan is way cooler than that. That was Megan being played by Marilyn Monroe. Badly.”

  Drew smiled. “Thanks, Gerald.” He hung up and looked at Lauren’s shocked expression. “Well?”

  She shook her head. “What happened to all that stuff about being in danger? And Meg never acted so silly about a man in her life. Sexy and confident, but not silly. Something’s up.” She frowned. “What about your dad?”

  “That seems to be the consensus. I thought I’d seen him in every possible mood, but I’ve never seen that Harlan Creighton before.”

  Lauren twirled a string of hair around her finger, another habit he’d noticed her resort to whenever she thought about her sister. “But how would he act if he fell in love? Maybe he’s just head-over-heels in love.”

  Drew ran a hand through his hair. His parents must have been in love at one time, but not in his memory, and he had no idea how his father would act if he fell in love again. In lust, yes. That happened frequently. But in love? “I don’t know, maybe that’s exactly how they’d act if they fell in love. Maybe they’d be as surprised by it as we are.” He found it hard to believe, but he didn’t have a better answer at the moment.

  Lauren screwed up her face in an effort to imagine that scenario. “Maybe,” she said, doubt obvious in her voice. She glanced sideways from under lowered lashes. “Would falling in love make you act silly?”

  He smiled. “Bad word choice—men don’t act silly. Although I couldn’t say for sure. I’ve never loved anyone enough to want to spend the rest of my life with her. It sounds confining.” His gaze drifted down to her left hand. How had he held that hand and noticed its warmth and softness, without ever feeling her ring? “But you must have,” he said, nodding at her hand. “Fallen in love that much, I mean. You know, with old what’s-his-name. How does it make you feel?” He hoped his relaxed stance reflected courteous interest rather than the strange tension that gripped him. Despite knowing how dangerous this line of thinking was, his question had nothing to do with his father and her sister.

  “Oh.” She held her left hand in her right and looked at the ring, as if she’d forgotten it was there. She caressed it thoughtfully. “I felt happy, I guess. I mean, I feel happy.” She corrected her tenses, but must have realized how tentative that sounded. She smiled at him. “Satisfied and happy. Contented,” she added more firmly, apparently still searching for the right term. She shrugged helplessly. “Our relationship hit a point where we knew it needed to go somewhere. So we took the next step. It just felt right.”

  Past tense again, but he didn’t point it out. He watched her closely. “That sounds… nice.” It sounded like a huge mistake, but he couldn’t say that when she looked so vulnerable. He forced a smile in return. “So, no acting silly, eh?”

  She straightened. “Well, that’s me. Practical through and through. I guess I’m not much of a romantic.” She tried to sound light-hearted, but seemed nervous beneath the surface. Her hands went in her pockets, and the ring disappeared from sight.

  Now, that was flat-out wrong. She was either covering up her emotions, or she really didn’t know she had them. Lauren was getting more intriguing by the minute.

  “Speaking of romance and stuff, I really should call Jeff. My fiancé,” she explained unnecessarily.

  “I remember.”

  “I was supposed to call at eight-fifteen, and it’s nearly eight thirty. He’ll be wondering what happened to me.”

  God, what an uptight prick. “Sure, go ahead. You can use the phone in here. I’ll go finish my sandwich.” He clicked the desk lamp on and turned off the soundless flickering of the TV. “Maybe you’ll feel more like eating after you’ve talked to Jeff.”

  They exchanged overly sincere smiles as he left, closing the wood paneled double doors behind him.

  Maybe talking to the anonymous Jeff would calm her nerves. Although he didn’t know how that was possible. He thought a relationship that bland and satisfying would give him a stomach ache. He hoped it gave Jeff one.

  Chapter

  Four

  “Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick! You were supposed to call fifteen minutes ago. Were you delayed in traffic coming back from Virginia? I’ve heard the D.C. traffic can be murder.”

  Lauren scrunched her eyes shut and put a hand to her forehead. She knew he’d be like this, and she was getting tired of dealing with his picky rules just because she hadn’t called at eight fifteen on the dot.

  Blurting it out was probably best. “I’m fine, Jeff. And I wasn’t delayed in traffic, because I didn’t go to Virginia.”

  “You didn’t?” It was the cool, controlling tone usually reserved for Meg, and never before directed at her. Of course, she’d never gone against his wishes before. He’d just have to learn to deal with it.

  “I didn’t call you because there have been a few problems here.” She took a deep breath and began explaining about the trip to the bank and the Hart building. Before she could get to the TV coverage, Jeff’s anxiety turned into full-blown panic.

  “A gun! He had a gun?” She could picture him jumping to his feet, his perfectly chiseled face going pale. “You could have been killed! What’s going on there?”

  She had to admit, it was gratifying to hear his concern. “I’m not sure, Jeff. But Meg and Senator Creighton apparently left for the Virgin Islands today, so I’ll have to wait a few days for her to get back before I know the whole story.”

  His voice held a low note of warning. “Lauren, if Meg is mixed up in something bad, you should come home right now. Let the authorities deal with it.”

  “The authorities are dealing with it,” she said, a bit defensively. She didn’t know if that made her any safer, but she wasn’t going to leave without knowing what was going on. It bothered her that Jeff thought she should. But Lauren reminded herself that he loved her and wanted to protect her—a noble objective. Drew Creighton wasn’t the only man with protective instincts.

  “Lauren, are you listening? I asked if you were able to reach my aunt and uncle.”

  “What? Oh, that. I haven’t had time yet, Jeff. But I promise to get in touch with them. I’d like to meet them, but things are just too unsettled right now. Maybe after Meg gets back.”

  “Of course.” His voice was a little more strained than his words. “I didn’t mean to rush you. I know how responsible you feel for getting your sister through these messy relationships she keeps falling into. But, honey, she’s married now. We talked about this. It’s not your problem.”

  Lauren sighed. Jeff had never understood Meg, or the bond between Lauren and her sister. But in his defense, he barely knew Meg, so why should he understand her? And it’s not like he had experience with any impulsive or overly dramatic members in his own family. She doubted that anyone had ever called a Duchaine a colorful character. She let his comment go by without protest. “Maybe I can call your Aunt Betty and Uncle John tomorrow, after Drew and I check out Meg’s apartment. We’re hoping to find some clue about those awful photos or about the two men who are after her.”

  “Drew?”

  “I thought I told you, he’s the senator’s son, the one who’s been helping me look fo
r Meg.”

  “You didn’t tell me his name.” He seemed to take a polite interest. “So this guy is probably quite a bit younger than you. College age?”

  She laughed. “Drew? No, he’s about your age. Senator Creighton’s sixty-four, you know.”

  “Oh.” From that one sound, she knew what was coming next. “I imagine he’s as much of a bed-hopping playboy as his father is.”

  “I wouldn’t know.” Although she had to admit she’d wondered.

  “Lauren, do you think it’s wise to be seen around town with that man?” Disapproval oozed from his tone. “Hanging around with a man like that is the kind of thing that can destroy a woman’s reputation.”

  “I don’t have a reputation to destroy in Washington, Jeff. No one knows me here. They probably don’t even know Drew very well, either. And besides, he seems to be a very nice man.” And deeply unsettling in a way she didn’t feel comfortable describing to Jeff, or even examining too closely.

  “I still don’t feel good about you spending so much time with him. It might put even more strange ideas in your head.”

  Even more? These phone conversations were becoming very enlightening. “What strange ideas do I have, Jeff?”

  “I’d call phone sex a little strange.”

  “Oh.” She smiled to herself. “I’ll admit it’s different for us. But we can’t say it’s strange if we haven’t tried it.”

  “God, I knew it. You really expect me to do it, don’t you?”

  “Well, there’s nothing wrong with trying something once…” She faltered, finally catching the resignation in his voice. “Are you willing to do it?”

  She heard a long sigh, the kind Jeff made with his mouth pressed into a tight line with his nostrils flaring. The kind that warned he was being pushed to the edge.

  “I still don’t approve, but you seemed to have this harebrained idea that it would help our relationship, so I looked into it.”

  She had no idea how one looked into phone sex, but the fact that he had was too incredible to pass up. If she didn’t ask, she’d always wonder. “So what did you learn? Go ahead, I’m very curious about this. Who knows, it might revitalized our sex life.” God knew it could use something.

  She heard mumbled swearing and throat clearing, and what sounded like pages turning.

  “Jeff?”

  “Wait, wait, I’m trying to figure out how to start.”

  “Um, probably by taking off clothes.”

  “Yeah. I guess I would describe that, like I’m taking off my shirt now. Then my pants. Hell, I don’t know how to do it.”

  No, he didn’t. And she was trying as hard as she could not to laugh, which was probably not a good sign for their relationship.

  She heard more paper shuffling sounds. “All right, I, um, take off all my clothes, then… Jesus, I can’t say that!” Furious rustling filled the phone, like paper being crumpled. “This is obscene, Lauren. Embarrassing. Does it really do something for you?”

  She rolled her eyes. Hardly. “Well, I guess I’ll never know.”

  “Because frankly, this sounds like something your sister would do.”

  Whoa. She started to protest, but he’d found his momentum and spoke over her.

  “You got this idea from Meg, didn’t you? She was never afraid to be outrageous and a little distasteful.”

  She knew she’d pushed him into this so she tried to control her anger, even though he’d just crossed the line. “Jeff, I hardly think that’s fair.”

  “Lauren, stop trying to cover for her and face the facts. Your sister’s morals leave a lot to be desired. I know more than you think I do, and it worries me when you act like her.”

  She did a few of Jeff’s nostril-flaring breaths to calm herself. “What do you mean? What do you know that could possibly worry you?”

  He sighed heavily. “I didn’t want to tell you, but I suppose you should know since so many other people must by now. Do you remember when Meg visited you last summer and I arranged for her to double date with us and my friend Charlie?”

  “Yes, we went to the lake. It was fun, and Charlie seemed to have a good time.”

  “Oh, he had a good time, alright. I heard about it later. Remember how we were all sunning ourselves on the raft, and taking turns diving off it?”

  “Sure.” The wooden platform anchored in deep water was a favorite place to spend a few hours, laughing and swimming.

  “And remember how we went back to shore first, so we could take a walk in the woods? Well, guess what happened while we were gone?”

  “Uh, I don’t know.”

  “Meg and Charlie had sex! Right there in the lake. How does that make you feel?”

  Jealous probably wasn’t the right answer.

  “Because I can tell you I found it pretty embarrassing that Charlie thought I was engaged to a woman who was probably just like her twin sister, who was so free and easy with her body that she probably had a string of one-night stands with God knows how many men before I came along.”

  The little red coal of anger that had begun glowing inside her was being fanned by a hot breeze. “Are you saying this is all about you, Jeff? About how my sister’s sex life makes you look?”

  “No, I’m saying it’s about how Meg’s sex life makes you look. I know you aren’t like your sister, but other people don’t know that. Stuff like that gets around, Lauren. It won’t make me look bad—hell, some guys would probably envy me—but I don’t want people looking at you and thinking you’re just like your sister.”

  He sounded sincerely concerned. She made an effort to douse her smoldering anger. “I don’t know what to say, Jeff.”

  “Just say you’ll forget about trying to spice up our sex life for now, and concentrate on getting back home. Then we can talk about your concerns and see what we can do.”

  “That’s fair.” Also vague. But he claimed to have her best interests at heart, which was hard to argue against.

  She hung up, realizing their relationship was going to require a lot of work. But since he was willing to try, she could put in a little extra effort herself.

  Her gaze fell on a notepad on the senator’s desk. She ripped off a square sheet of paper and wrote “Call Betty and John Duchaine” and stuck it in her pocket. Satisfied, she left to find Drew.

  He was putting his plate in the dishwasher. With a wave he indicated the food on the kitchen island. “How do you feel about eating now? Have you found your appetite?”

  She’d nearly lost it forever, but she wasn’t going to let him know that. “I believe I have.” She began constructing a sandwich every bit as big as the one Drew had finished off, humming to herself as she did.

  Drew leaned against the counter and watched. “Did you give what’s-his-name the whole story?”

  “Jeff,” she reminded him clearly. “Yes, I told him about the pictures, the two guys, and the Virgin Islands.”

  “So loverboy’s all right with you being chased around Washington by armed kidnappers?”

  “Of course he isn’t,” she said with a haughty air, irritated by his flippant tone. “He’s a sensible person, and he loves me. He would prefer that I come home right now.”

  Drew was silent a moment. “He expects you to leave while your sister is gone and people with guns are looking for her?”

  She frowned at him. “He wants me to be safe. That’s what you do when you love someone.” But Drew wouldn’t know because he’d never loved anyone that much. She felt a small pang of sympathy for him, and tried to help him understand Jeff’s point of view. “Assuming you had a fiancée, what would you do if she called you from another city and said her sister had disappeared and armed men were trying to kidnap her?” She watched him think it over, certain he’d come to the same conclusion Jeff had. “You’d tell her to come home,” she answered for him.

  “No, I wouldn’t.” His voice was quiet and full of certainty.

  She laid down her knife. “You wouldn’t?”

  “No.
” She thought he was teasing, but his blue eyes met hers with a steely, direct gaze. “We’re talking about your sister,” he said, pausing to let it sink in. “If it were me, I’d be on the next plane, offering to help.”

  She stared back, wordless, until the corner of his mouth curved into an ironic smile. “But, hey, what do I know? I’ve never been engaged.” He straightened. “I’ll be in my dad’s office going through papers. If you want to help when you’re done eating, you know where to find me.”

  She watched him walk away, wanting to say something in Jeff’s defense, but unable to come up with the words. He’d made it sound like Jeff didn’t care about her. Even though she’d begun to see how self-centered Jeff was, accusing him of not caring was going too far. He just believed in going through the proper channels and letting the police and Secret Service handle it. Drew didn’t understand Jeff’s need to protect her.