Читать книгу Undercover Fiance - Sheryl Lynn - Страница 11

Chapter Three

Shaken by Pinky’s latest missive, Janine had trouble maintaining a pleasant demeanor. Pinky had threatened outright murder. No amount of denial or putting a spin on it made it anything less than a death threat. Arm in arm she strolled with Daniel through the lobby. She forced a smile even though it made her face ache. Her head throbbed. She introduced him to employees and guests she knew by name. Each time she said boyfriend, her throat choked.

Young or old, beautiful or plain, women turned their heads to watch him walk by. He moved with the easy grace of a natural-born athlete. His penny-bright eyes appeared to miss nothing. He exuded self-confidence, intelligence and goodwill—he radiated attitude.

They walked outside onto the huge deck behind the lodge. In fair weather it sported tables and umbrellas for alfresco dining. A few hardy souls garbed in ski togs braved the biting cold. The smell of hot cocoa and buttered rum rose like perfume. Daniel commented on the view. Strategically planted trees blocked the sight of the parking lot, but not the forest and mountains gleaming pearly white.

A bus lumbered up the graveled drive and parked below the deck. Daniel and Janine stepped aside to make way for a group of people dressed for skiing. Laughing and talking, their boots making the wooden deck rumble and shake, the people carried skis, poles and snowboards onto the bus. Daniel kept an arm wrapped firmly around Janine’s waist.

“Is the shuttle driver your employee?” he asked.

“No. We contract with the bus company. Why?”

“He’s staring at you.”

She sneaked a peek and recognized the driver. He’d been working for the shuttle company for as long as the Dukes had owned Elk River Resort. “He isn’t Pinky.”

“You’re sure?”

She chuckled at the idea of the shuttle driver being a deranged stalker. “Positive. He and my father are friends.” She waved to prove her point. The driver waved back, then shut the bus doors and shoved the transmission into gear. The bus rolled into the parking lot to make the turnaround.

Janine walked down the steps. “I’ve hired twenty new employees this year. Of those, twelve were hired specifically for the holiday season, mid-November through the end of February. Four of the seasonal employees worked for us last year.”

“You have sixty people on staff, right? How many of them live at the resort?”

“At the moment, eighteen. We offer room and board as part of the employment package. It can be a tough commute in the winter.”

“Where do they live?”

She pointed toward a fence nearly concealed by juniper trees. A green-painted roof was visible beyond the foliage. “The dormitory can house thirty people. The managerial staff have rooms inside the lodge in the east wing.”

She gave him the grand tour. Daniel listened attentively as she pointed out various buildings. Warmed with pride, she stopped having to force a smile.

Even in the midst of winter, the resort grounds sparkled. All the outbuildings were clean and painted white with green trim. The parking lots were graded and cleared of ice and snow. Evergreen hedges and trees concealed areas with less-than-aesthetic features.

“I can see why you love it here,” he said. He breathed deeply. “Wood smoke and snow. Ought to bottle it.”

His charm was getting under her skin. She was beginning to relax, even to enjoy herself. “You’re quite the romantic.”

“Hopelessly.” A light breeze tousled his hair. Cold turned his cheeks ruddy. He playfully flipped at her furry coat collar. “Aren’t you?”

She reminded herself he was an employee with a specific task to accomplish. No flirtations. No silliness. “No. I’m a businesswoman.”

“Nine-to-five and nothing else? I don’t believe it What do you do for fun?”

“Balance spreadsheets.”

He threw back his head and laughed.

They walked past the tennis courts and picnic grounds. She pointed out the stables. From a distance a faint jingling of bells said guests were enjoying a horse-drawn wagon ride.

A discordant noise caught her attention. She followed the source and spotted puffs of black smoke rising toward the jewel-like sky. She headed toward it.

“What’s going on?” Daniel asked.

“I’m about to find out.” She reached a garage. Off by itself, tucked behind the dormitory and equipment storage sheds, her father used it to store his antique Jeep. The maintenance people used it to repair mechanical equipment. She considered it an eyesore.

In the graveled yard two men worked on a tractor outfitted with a grading blade. The vehicle sputtered and its engine ground as if in pain. Every few seconds black smoke belched from the exhaust pipe.

The head of maintenance, wearing coveralls and a greasy, billed cap, grinned at her. “Howdy, Ms. Duke. I told the colonel I could get this old girl running.”

Janine swept her gaze over the yard. Tools, gasoline jugs, engine parts and a barrel of grease littered the ground. Discomfited by the junkyard appearance, she glanced at Daniel. He seemed interested in the tractor.

“I appreciate you getting it running again, Juan,” she said. She swept out a hand. “But you can’t leave the yard looking like this.”

The man seated inside the cab shouted over the engine noise. “We gotta get those trails scraped, ma’am. The colonel wants it done today. With the old tractor running we don’t have to hire Kendricks. He’s a robber. Charges an arm and a leg.”

Wiping his hands on a rag, Juan said, “Randy is right, ma’am. We got to work those trails. Don’t be worrying none. We’ll set this place right before sunset.”

The garage wasn’t visible from the lodge, and guests had no reason to come back here. If she hadn’t been so boastful about showing off the grounds, she wouldn’t mind the mess.

“The engine sounds terrible,” she said. “Are you sure it’ll make it up the hills?”

Juan laughed. “She’s a real monster, ma’am. Now that she’s running, she’ll go anywhere. Especially with me riding shotgun for Randy.” He turned his toothy smile on Daniel. Questions sparkled in his eyes.

As if in answer, Daniel hugged her waist and pressed his cheek briefly against hers. “It sounds great to me, cupcake.” He thrust out his right hand. “Daniel Tucker. Janine is showing me the place. I’m impressed. You’re the man who maintains the grounds for my little sweetie here?”

“Juan Hernandez.” He pumped Daniel’s hand. His cheeks reddened as if he were about to burst into laughter. “I keep the machines running. Nice meeting you.” Juan turned for the tractor. His coveralls sagged with the weight of tools in every pocket. He climbed into the cab with Randy.

Janine watched the vehicle lumber out of the yard. Realizing Daniel had left her she turned around. He peered inside the garage. “Over-the-top is one thing,” she said. “But is calling me goofy names truly necessary?”

He flashed her a boyish smile. He gestured excitedly inside the garage. “Is that what I think it is?”

Men, she thought wearily. Did they never outgrow their delight with ridiculous toys? Even her father, a man in his seventies, collected firearms, golf clubs and military memorabilia as avidly as a six-year-old collected action figures. She followed Daniel into the garage.

Her nose wrinkled in distaste. The place smelled of mice, motor oil and rotting wood. The narrow windows set high near the ceiling held ancient glass coated with dust, grease and spiderwebs. For years she’d been begging her father to tear down this building and replace it with a proper maintenance garage. For years he’d been telling her he’d get around to it. She was beginning to believe he secretly reveled in this small corner of disorder in his otherwise highly structured world.

Daniel rubbed both hands over the flat hood of the colonel’s Jeep.

“It’s from World War II,” she explained. “The colonel is restoring it. He’s been hauling it around for more years than I can remember.”

He climbed behind the steering wheel. “This is cool. I love old cars.”

She had a distinct feeling the colonel was going to adore Daniel. The idea scratched her already-raw nerves. Elliot wanted to meet her family, but she kept finding excuses to put him off. She knew the colonel would dismiss Elliot, a patent attorney, as a paper pusher. She doubted if Elliot would like her father, either. As quirky as Elliot was, he was rather intolerant of the quirks of others.

Even in the wan light Daniel’s face glowed as he examined the dashboard and stick shift. He made engine noises. The colonel would definitely like him.

“Mr. Tucker.”

He paused in his exploration. His grin was pure evil. “It really turns me on when you say my name like that.”

She leveled on him her iciest glare. “Is that supposed to reduce me to giggles?”

“Only if you think it’s funny.”

“I don’t.”

He turned on the seat so his feet rested on the running board. “What do you find funny? Is Elliot funny?”

Startled by his mention of Elliot, she drew warily aside. She didn’t like the inane idea that Daniel could read her mind. “This has nothing to do with Elliot. This has to do with your disrespectful attitude toward me.”

He sat straighter and frowned. “I don’t mean disrespect. It’s just that a beautiful woman like you—”

She thrust up a hand, her palm rigid. “Stop right there. I didn’t take this face out of a drawer and put it on just so you can get your jollies.”

He shrugged. It might have been a sheepish gesture, except his expression was anything but contrite. He looked at her the way a soldier eyed an enemy bunker—he saw a challenge. Her scalp tightened.

He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, putting them nearly nose to nose. His nearness disturbed her. His alluring scent was even worse. Males didn’t affect her—she didn’t allow them to affect her.

Daniel Tucker affected her. She wanted to touch his face and explore the texture of his sensual mouth. An absurd impulse rose to plant her hands on his knees just to see how he’d react.

“Explain to me how it is you can date a guy for years and keep it casual.”

The air grew heavy and close. She wanted to peel out of her heavy coat A funny tingle began at the backs of her knees, creeping upward. She ordered herself to think about something else. Elliot—she couldn’t even remember what he looked like at the moment. Pinky. That broke her spell. She lifted her chin. “I don’t owe you any explanations.”

“How serious are you about him?”

She saw it now. He thought he could bed her. Even worse, naughty little speculations about his sexual prowess popped uninvited, and unwanted, into her head.

He is not desirable, she told herself firmly. He was not sexy. He was a caricature, a conceited ass—a playboy who traded on his good looks. A jerk who thought she should be flattered he deigned to hit on her. He was probably a lousy lover, too.

“I can see I’ve made a mistake. I’ll take care of the problem by myself. Send me a bill for your travel expenses. I’ll pay it promptly.” She turned for the door.

Daniel had her by the arm before she even realized he’d moved. She stiffened.

“You need me,” he said.

“I most certainly do not.”

“What did I do wrong?”

She jerked her arm from his grasp. “Making passes at me is not part of the plan. I won’t tolerate it.”

“Okay, okay. I’m guilty of finding you fascinating and beautiful. But that’s no crime. You make it sound crude.”

“It is crude and offensive. Now go home. You’re fired.”

The door slammed shut, pitching the garage into darkness. “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” she muttered, then louder, “Hey! There’s somebody in here.”

She headed for the door. A loud snap stopped her mid-step. That could not have been the lock in the hasp. Yelling again, she rushed to the door. It refused to budge no matter how hard she pushed on the handle. She slammed her fist against the door. The metal clanged dully.

Daniel shoved his shoulder against the door, but the steel door and hinges didn’t budge. She yelled at whomever had locked the door to unlock it. She heard shoes crunching gravel outside, but he or she refused to answer her cries.

Daniel strained to lift the huge tracked door.

“It’s locked,” she said. “You’ll never budge it.” Either the person outside was completely deaf or else he’d deliberately locked them inside the garage. She pounded on the door until her fists ached.

A splashing noise made her stop pounding. She lowered her gaze to her shoes where liquid seeped beneath the door. The sick-sweet stench of gasoline made her gag. Daniel must have smelled it, too, because he grabbed her arm and dragged her backward.

“Open that door!” she screamed. “Open it right now!”

A dull whoosh answered. Stunned she stared as fingers of bluish flame flickered under the door. Smoke seeped through the cracks in the wooden wall.

“Well, cupcake,” Daniel said, his voice eerily calm. “Looks like you actually do need me.”

Dried out by winter winds the wooden garage caught fire with astonishing speed. Thick black smoke filled the interior. Coughing and gagging, she pulled the collar of her coat over her mouth and nose.

“Is there another way out?” He grabbed her arm and dragged her across the floor. They stumbled over cans, boxes and tools. She stubbed her toes and banged her shins in her haste to escape the flames.

She pointed at windows she could barely see through the smoke. “They’re too small. We’re trapped!”

The horrendous noise was as frightening as the increasing heat and smoke. Rushing and crackling, the flames sounded like a ravenous beast gnawing through the wooden walls. Outside, people were shouting. Something clanged against the tracked garage door. Janine screamed to let them know she and Daniel were trapped. Her throat and lungs burned.

Daniel practically jerked her off her feet. He grabbed a box that sat against a wall and tossed it aside. He was a shadow creature tearing through debris. Without knowing why he acted as he did she relied on instinct and helped toss aside boxes and cans. Smoke blacked out the light from the windows and flames. She couldn’t breathe. Her lungs were afire. Tears streamed from her burning eyes. She lost all sense of direction. A box slipped from her weakening fingers and dropped on her foot. She barely acknowledged the pain. She wanted out. Away from the flames and the smoke and the horrible noise.

“Watch out!” Daniel yelled. He caught her arm and shook her. “Don’t move.”

She sensed more than saw him whirl. He kicked the wooden wall. Wood snapped with a resounding crack. He kicked it again and then a third time. Daylight glimmered beyond the smoke. He shoved a broken plank, twisting it until the fastening nails gave way.

He shoved her into the hole. Her coat caught. Wood squeezed her shoulders and hips and a protruding nail caught her scalp. She wriggled and squirmed, aided by Daniel pushing her from behind.

She popped free and went sprawling onto her hands and knees. She choked and gagged. Her tortured throat felt as if sandpaper scraped it raw. Hands helped her off the gravel. Excited voices swirled around her. She tried to tell people Daniel was still inside, but only a croak emerged.

People dragged her out of the yard, away from the garage which was now burning out of control. Sparks and cinders and ash drifted like hot snow. People used hoses and buckets of water to fight the flames. She struggled to rise, but hands held her down on a patch of frozen grass. Unable to see more than a blur of faces and bodies she gulped sweet, fresh air into her aching lungs.

“Hey, cupcake.” Daniel dropped onto the grass beside her.

With a cry, she hugged him. He pulled her onto his lap and held her as if he never meant to let her go. He stank of smoke. His arms felt wonderful. Grateful he’d survived, she buried her face against his neck and sobbed in relief.

By the time the volunteer fire department trucks arrived, the garage had burned nearly to the ground. Resort employees had managed to prevent the fire from spreading to nearby trees and buildings, but the garage and its contents were a complete loss. A pall of dark smoke hovered over the resort. The stench of burned rubber and chemicals filled the air.

“Janine!” Kara dropped to her knees and hugged both Janine and Daniel.

“I’m okay,” Janine croaked. It hurt to talk. She coughed. “We’re okay.”

Soot blackened Daniel’s face. His eyes glittered like burnished flint. She knew what he was thinking, because she was thinking the same thing herself. Pinky would pay for this.

It was nearly midnight before Janine finished with the paramedics and the sheriff. The paramedics had wanted to transport her to a hospital. Along with smoke inhalation she had a gash in her forehead from a rusty nail. She’d allowed them to bandage the cut and to treat her with a few whiffs of oxygen to clear her lungs, but refused to leave the resort. She told the sheriff about the stalker. He kept asking whether she was sure she didn’t know who Pinky was, as though if he asked enough times she would suddenly know. His attitude said there was something wrong with her. A few of his questions made her think he blamed her for goading Pinky into setting the fire.

She retreated to her bedroom. She immediately jumped into the shower as much to rid herself of humiliation as to wash away the stench of smoke.

She’d hated Pinky before. She absolutely, with all her heart and soul, detested him now.

A knock on the door made her freeze. Her heart seemed to rattle in her chest. She clutched her robe at her throat. “Who is it?”

“Daniel.”

She opened the door. Smiling, he hoisted the tray he carried. He’d showered and changed his clothing, looking none the worse for their ordeal. A leather carryall was slung over his shoulder. Glad for a friendly face, she invited him inside.

“Your sister made us some food. Sandwiches, salad. Chocolate cake.” He winked. “Bourbon. I could use a drink. How about you?”

She usually didn’t drink more than an occasional glass of wine. At the moment she wouldn’t overly object to getting good and sloshy drunk. “How are you?”

“Still tasting smoke, but I’m okay.” He dropped the bag on the floor, set the tray on a table and poured generous quantities of bourbon into a pair of crystal tumblers. “Take it neat, tough girl?”

“Not that tough. Ice and water, please.” She fiddled with the neckline of her robe. Made of heavy satin it covered her from neck to toes, but she was all too aware of her nakedness underneath. Her skin was still warm and damp from the long shower she’d taken, and the fabric clung to her hips. She watched his hands while he mixed the drinks and uncovered the food and snapped out linen napkins.

He’d saved her life. He’d risked having the roof fall on his head while making sure she’d gotten out of the garage first. Her throat choked up.

He handed her a drink. “Nice room. Looks like you.”

She wondered what he meant by that. Years as an army brat had turned her into a minimalist as far as possessions were concerned. She had little interest in knickknacks. The room was rather plain, with mauve-painted walls enlivened by framed fine-art prints. The furniture was functional; her only concessions to luxury were the designer linens on the bed. She caught him peering at a stack of paperback novels. She loved sexy historical romances, gory horror stories and trashy Hollywood glitzy sagas. His interest discomfited her.

She sipped the bourbon and water. The alcohol burned her throat, but warmed her belly. He was the first man, other than a relative, who’d ever been inside her private room.

A man who’d risked his life to save hers. “I owe you an apology.”

“For what?”

She picked up a sandwich. It was too late to eat, but her stomach gurgled indelicately. “Back in the garage. When I fired you.”

“I’m fired?” His sunny good humor teased a smile from her.

She should fire him. He was obnoxious...he’d saved her life. “I don’t appreciate men making passes at me. Especially when I have a job to do.”

He regarded her. “I stepped out of line.”

“You did.”

“Can I plead temporary insanity?”

She bit into the sandwich before he caught her smiling.

“Sorry about your head.” His fingertips grazed the bandage. Even that light touch made her wince. “I didn’t have time to check for nails.”

“I’m thankful you figured out how to get us out. I was starting to panic. I never would have thought of breaking through the wall.”

“Breaking boards is my specialty.” He flashed a cocky grin. “It drives the chicks wild.”

A laugh burst free before she could stop it. She quickly gained control. “Sit down and eat.”

“How did the cops do with the interviews?”

Good humor fled. “The sheriff doesn’t believe me about Pinky. He acted as if I’m deliberately concealing Pinky’s identity. Or that it’s somehow my fault the garage burned down.”

“Humph. I should have warned you. Cops have a bad habit of forgetting who the victim is. Did I tell you my stalker had me arrested?”

“You mentioned it.” Appetite gone, she set the sandwich on the plate. She eyed her drink, seriously considering the oblivion alcohol offered.

“Buck up. We’ll catch him. He’ll get tagged with attempted murder and arson.”

She didn’t see how. Nobody claimed to have seen anyone hanging around the garage before the fire. Nobody confessed to setting the blaze. Anger washed through her. “I gave Pinky’s letters and cards to the sheriff. He probably thinks they’re cute. Like mash notes from a teenager.”

He chewed thoughtfully on a steak and cheese sandwich. He toyed with a pickle spear. “One good thing. Pinky isn’t worried about your father anymore. My plan is working out great.”

“I am so relieved,” she said dryly. The fire today was going to seem like a picnic compared to how the colonel was going to react when he found out she’d been concealing her problem with Pinky. “What if he decides to set the lodge on fire?”

He ate half the sandwich before he wiped his mouth with a napkin and replied. “I doubt it. Yeah, he lost it at the garage, but there was a lot of temptation. Gas cans sitting around. You and me alone in a private place. I have a feeling he reacted before he realized he could hurt you.”

The door drew her gaze. As a precaution the sheriff had assigned a deputy to patrol the resort. She wished for an occupying army. “What if he knows you’re in here right now?”

“No gas cans sitting in the hallway.”

“Don’t be flippant. He tried to murder us.”

He reached across the small table and placed a hand over hers. Her breath caught in her throat. When he joked around and acted like a chauvinistic clown, she found him easy to dismiss as just another conceited, too-big-for-his-britches playboy. With his eyes gazing steadily into hers he appeared somehow dangerous. And sexy. Her belly did a little flip-flop.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Janine.” He squeezed her fingers.

“Who will make sure nothing happens to you?”

His smile caught her off guard. “Why, cupcake, I do believe you care.” Chuckling, he returned his attention to the food. “Don’t you worry about me.”

It bothered her deeply that she was doing exactly that. “In any case, you’ve done your job. I thank you with all my heart. But it is time for you to leave.”

“I haven’t finished my sandwich.”

“I was thinking about in the morning.”

He made a dismissive sound. “I thought I wasn’t fired.”

“The police are involved now. They’ll find Pinky. It’s too dangerous for you to stay here.”

“If Pinky runs me off, then he’ll get the idea that violence is the answer to his problems.”

“He wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t count on it. Since he attacked in broad daylight he doesn’t care about witnesses. It’s plain dumb luck nobody saw him.”

She clamped her arms over her bosom and focused on him her most frigid glare.

“Look at this situation from his point of view. You’re his goddess, the love of his life. He needs an excuse to justify his own cowardice. Who do you want him to blame, me or your dad?”

“But the police—”

“He may very well be a sociopath and capable of lying convincingly to the police.” He freshened her drink with a splash of bourbon. “We can’t let him think for a second that he can control you with violence.”

Sickening visions of Pinky murdering her father turned her shaky inside.

“You can’t placate these nuts. You can’t let them take control. You have to push back, fight back. No amount of wishing makes them go away.”

“How am I supposed to fight back when I don’t even know who he is?”

“Don’t let him run me off.”

If it were only her own safety at risk, she would argue. She would accept the protection offered by the police and suffer Pinky’s harassment. But if Pinky could so blithely attempt to burn her to death, who knew what he’d do to her father. “I’m scared if we make him mad he’ll hurt the colonel.”

“I’ll keep him so busy he won’t even think about your dad. I promise.” He yawned mightily and covered his mouth with his hand. “Sorry.”

“You must be exhausted. I’ll show you to your room. It’s just down the hall.”

“I’m staying here.” He jerked a thumb at the door. “Rustle me up a blanket and share a few pillows. I’ll be fine on the floor.”

Awareness of her nakedness under the robe warmed her blood. She wished Daniel did look like Raymond Burr, preferably grossly overweight. “Is that necessary?”

“It is until we know for certain Pinky doesn’t have access to room keys.” He shifted on the chair and reached to his side. A fastener snapped. He placed a handgun on the table.

Her eyebrows raised. The colonel had taught all his children weapons safety and how to shoot. Still, the sight of such compact deadliness dismayed her. “A Luger 9 mm. Nice. Do you have a concealed carry permit?”

His sudden smile dazzled her. For a scant second she forgot Pinky and the handgun. Nothing mattered except the powerful warmth of his smile. If only he weren’t such a conceited jackass....

“The lady knows peashooters. I think I’m in love. And yes, I have a concealed carry permit. Who other than you has a key to this room?”

“My mother.”

“Is there a master key?”

She winced. “Yes.”

“Prepare a pallet then, woman. I’m your guard dog tonight.”