Wedlocked?! (12 page)

“Oh, it's been taken care of,” he replied before she could unearth her wallet. “Have a nice day.”

As soon as the man was gone, she sank into her chair and stared at the impressive bouquet. The long-stemmed blooms were nestled among leathery dark green leaves in a round crystal bowl trimmed with a satin bow in the same delicate pink as the roses. If this had been sent by a grateful client, she'd eat her denim tote bag.

With fingers that shook, and hope blooming in her heart, Annie plucked the small white envelope from its resting place among the leaves and opened it.

Tomorrow
was written in a slash of black on the card, followed by the initials
C.C.
Grinning foolishly, Annie stared at the bold, familiar writing. Then she tucked the card back into its envelope and put it carefully in her purse for safekeeping. Turning the vase this way and that, she examined every one of the twelve roses. In her whole life, no one had ever given her flowers for a romantic reason.

Perhaps Cole sends them to every woman he sleeps with,
whispered an insidious little voice. It was his kind of gesture: sophisticated, polished and charming.

No, she wouldn't think that way. She was going to savor the roses until they withered and died, just as she was going to enjoy Cole's company as long as he was in San Antonio. And afterward she'd get on with her life. Yes, the way to think of this time was definitely as an interlude. Nothing more.

She should thank Cole for the bouquet, she realized eventually, but when she called his office he'd already gone. She wasn't about to leave a message on his voice mail; she'd see him tomorrow.

Nor was she going to leave the roses on her desk to wilt while she was in Austin. If she hurried, she'd have just enough time to drop them off at her condo before she met Lydia for dinner. Otherwise her
friend was sure to pepper her with questions for which Annie had no answers.

 

Driving to the ranch, Cole wondered if Annie had enjoyed his impulse. The florist had promised the roses would be delivered right away.

Perhaps Cole shouldn't have sent them. It had been his observation that romantic gestures could complicate an issue, but the situation between them was simple. Seeing each other had rekindled their desire for each other. What could be more straightforward? Besides, he remembered how much she had always loved flowers. Funny, in the months they'd been together before, he didn't remember ever sending them.

When he pulled up in front of the ranch house and went inside, one of the maids showed him to the small, elegant sitting room his mother had re-decorated at Ryan's insistence. The rich jewel tones and antique cherry furniture she had chosen flattered her exotic coloring.

After Lily gave him a hug, the familiar scent of her perfume relaxing him as it always did, they sat side by side on a deep blue velvet couch that was as comfortable as it was attractive.

“Have you seen Maria lately?” Cole asked as she poured iced water with sliced lime from a silver pitcher into a crystal goblet and handed it to him. Perhaps he wouldn't have to drive to Leather Bucket, after all.

While he drank deeply, Lily shook her head with obvious regret. “I don't know what's going on with that girl. She finally called after I left several messages, but when I invited her over, she said she was busy.” Lily bit her lip. “I worry about her,” she said. “Something isn't right, but I can't put my finger on it.”

As far as Cole was concerned, there was always plenty to worry about with Maria. She seemed to embrace trouble.

“Hannah suggested that I check on her.” He was annoyed at the twinge of guilt he felt, despite his baby sister's complete lack of regard for her family. He didn't care how she treated him, but the way she tried to undermine their mother's happiness was despicable. He didn't understand why Lily tolerated it, and he wasn't looking forward to Maria finding out about his parentage. It would only make matters worse. “I haven't had time to drive out there,” he said. Perhaps he wouldn't mention the trip to Austin.

His mother patted his hand. “You've been busy.”

“I'll get over there one day soon,” he promised. Maybe Annie would go with him. There was no telling how Maria would react to the intrusion. A third party might serve as a buffer against her volatile temper.

“I hope you can talk some sense into her.” Lily took a deep breath, and he would have sworn she was bracing herself. Before she could speak, there was a soft knock on the partially closed door, and
Rosita came in with a tray. “Just put it on the coffee table,” Lily said, and thanked her.

The tray held a small platter of fresh fruit, silverware, plates and napkins. “I thought you might like something to keep you going until dinner,” Lily told Cole.

Realizing that he'd missed lunch, he helped himself to some melon and papaya. “How are you holding up?” he asked. “Have you been sleeping okay?”

“I'm fine. Ryan is very supportive.” She twisted her engagement ring around her finger, then blurted, “Do you think we have a chance of winning this case?”

Cole froze in the act of spearing a slice of cantaloupe. Where was this coming from?

Carefully he set down his fork so he could give her his full attention. The tension she tried to hide was evident in the lines of strain between her dark brows and around her mouth, in the way she gripped her hands together in her lap so tightly that the knuckles paled.

Cole covered her hands with his, dismayed at how icy they felt. “The case is full of holes,” he said. “If we can't win, I don't deserve to be called an attorney.” He was gratified when the corners of her mouth softened slightly. “Believe me,” he continued, releasing her to sit back on the couch, “I'm not just saying it to make you feel better. Annie's been working hard to undermine the pitiful amount
of evidence the state's come up with. You have no reason to worry.”

Cole knew that until the verdict came in there were always reasons—unpredictable juries, bad rulings, uncooperative or forgetful witnesses, technical snafus—but he wasn't about to mention any of that to his mother. She needed reassurance, not more worries.

“Anything new on the kidnapping?” he asked to distract her.

“Technically the case is still open, but the police have run down every possible lead, and the investigators Ryan hired keep coming up empty as well.” Tears filled her eyes, and Cole realized he'd picked a poor change of subject. “We can only pray the baby is still alive somewhere,” she added. “Ryan clings to that hope.”

“Of course Bryan's alive,” Cole replied. “And someday we'll find him.”

Lily sipped her water. “How is Annie?” she asked. “She seems like such a nice girl.”

Her smile relieved Cole, so he didn't pay as much attention as he might have to the hairs lifting in warning on the back of his neck. “She's stubborn, she's opinionated and she's too independent for her own good,” he said without thinking as he selected a chunk of fresh pineapple. “Other than that, I guess she's fine.”

He glanced up to see that his mother's expression
had brightened even more. Too late he realized he'd admitted way too much.

“Has she changed a lot since you knew her before?”

“Before?” Cole echoed, ice sliding down his spine.

“Before you moved away, when you two were seeing each other romantically.”

He didn't need the clarification. “I didn't realize you knew about that.” He concentrated on trimming the rind from a slice of cantaloupe as though he were performing major surgery.

“Mothers are good at that kind of math,” she replied dryly. “Adding two and two, getting four. I thought her name sounded familiar, so I asked her.”

Oh, Lord, how much had Annie revealed? He wasn't proud of the way he'd treated her. Looking back on it, he realized he could have handled the situation better than he had, but he'd been too damn devastated at the time to think clearly.

“I tried to help her,” he said now, “but she wouldn't listen. How was I supposed to know she was innocent when she wouldn't even defend herself?”

“Why don't you tell me what happened,” Lily suggested, folding her hands and arousing Cole's suspicion. Just how much did she already know, or how little?

Briefly, he explained how Annie's partner on the
San Antonio police force had been on the take, and that Annie had been implicated too.

“You loved her, but you believed she was guilty?” Lily sounded incredulous.

“She wouldn't explain,” Cole replied defensively. “She refused to answer my questions. Instead she kept insisting that she couldn't talk about it.” He waved his fork. “The evidence against her was pretty damning. How was I supposed to know what to think?”

Lily sat back and stared at him. “I've heard of the loyalty among police officers. It sounds like she had no choice in following her conscience, reasonable or not, but she needed your unconditional support all the same. How terribly hurt she must have been that you couldn't give it.”

He didn't know what to say. All this time, he'd focused on his own frustration and his sense of betrayal. Now his mother's simple statement brought home how much he'd let Annie down too.

“My God,” he muttered beneath his breath. “I never thought of it that way. I didn't really listen. I didn't understand. Maybe I was too busy thinking about
my
needs,
my
hurt. I let her down and then I walked out on her.”

Cole stared down at his fists, sick at heart. He was lucky Annie hadn't shot him on sight that first day in the restaurant.

“It was a long time ago,” Lily said gently. “Perhaps it no longer matters.”

His head snapped up. “It matters to me. I still—” He stopped abruptly, swallowing hard on the emotions he wasn't yet ready to face. “I still care about what Annie thinks,” he amended. He had held her and made love to her. They'd connected on the most basic level.

“You don't understand,” he said bluntly. “It's six years too late to tell her I'm sorry. The attraction might still be there, but the trust is gone.”

“That's a shame,” Lily said with obvious regret, “but I can tell you from experience that trust can be rebuilt, if you care enough and are willing to forgive each other. Look at Ryan and me. For thirty years I let him believe I'd stopped loving him.”

“That's different,” Cole argued. It was easy to see that Ryan adored her. Annie might want Cole, but neither one of them believed they could turn back the clock. Except for a very few exceptions, like his mother and Ryan, life didn't very often hand out second chances.

“If you say so,” Lily replied, but she didn't sound convinced. It was time to change the subject once again.

“She's going to talk to some of the employees at the Austin Arms again tomorrow,” he said.

“The police already interviewed everyone who was working that night,” Lily protested. “What does she hope to find?”

“I'm not sure,” Cole admitted. “That's Annie's
field of expertise. All I know is that she seemed to be looking forward to the trip.”

So was he. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he'd looked forward to anything quite as much.

N
othing about the Austin Arms had changed since the last time Annie had been here, and yet everything was different. Cole's light touch on her back as he followed her to the elevator and up to their room burned through her cotton sweater like a branding iron. The pep talk she'd given herself on the way here—something about living for the moment and letting the future take care of itself—had been as effective as a rain dance in the desert.

She could deny the shouting of her heart no longer. She loved Cole, had always loved him. And worse, would probably keep loving him until she died.

Silently she unlocked the door to their room and was about to step inside when he stopped her. Annie's overnight bag was slung over his shoulder and he was carrying a small case of his own, which he set down on the patterned carpet of the hallway.

“What?” she asked in confusion, gripping her purse and tote bag more tightly. “This is our room. The key worked.”

Cole settled his hands lightly on her shoulders.
His smile was crooked, his eyes a dark and intense blue. As always, his appearance sent a sizzle of desire through her veins.

When he'd picked her up at her condo, she had thanked him for the roses sitting on her dining room table. Despite the awareness crackling between them, their conversation since then had been strictly business as they discussed every aspect of the case in exhaustive detail. Cole's witness list was shaping up nicely and he was encouraged.

Now his expression was anything but professional as he searched Annie's face. Her heart began to thump wildly, and she barely resisted the urge to fiddle with her hair. She'd worn it down today instead of in its usual ponytail, since Cole had mentioned how much he liked it loose. It made her feel feminine and flirtatious.

“I know we have the right room,” he agreed. His voice was deeper than usual, his expression almost predatory in its intensity. “Annie—” he started, and then stopped to clear his throat. “I'm glad we're here together,” he said simply.

Another door opened down the hall and a man came out. As he walked by, he glanced at them indifferently. Cole lifted his hands from her shoulders and picked up his bag.

Intensely curious about what he'd been about to say, Annie led the way inside. Her feet sank into the thick blue carpet with every step. A huge bed dominated the room. Trying to ignore it, she set down
her purse and crossed to the window to open the heavy draperies. The sky had been cloudy when they left San Antonio, and now a gentle rain was falling.

Her senses were more keenly tuned to Cole moving around behind her than to the view. She would have given a lot to know what he was thinking, how he was feeling. With the new information about Lockhart's alibi and the lack of evidence against his mother, there was an excellent chance that Lily would be vindicated.

Annie knew a chance wasn't good enough for Cole. He wanted a guarantee, and the only way they would have that was to find out the identity of the real killer. That's why they were here in Austin.

That was
one
reason, she amended as his arms slid around her from behind. She leaned back against him, tipping her head. With a sigh he nuzzled the side of her neck, his breath warm against her skin. Every cell in Annie's being responded with an ache that would have buckled her knees had he not been holding her.

“Work before play,” she gasped as she covered his hands with her own to stop their slow ascent up her rib cage.

Cole made a sound of disappointment. “You're right,” he said with a gusty sigh. “Where do we start?”

Ducking around him, Annie unsnapped her denim tote and pulled out a manila folder. “I want to talk to the maid I mentioned before and to the garage
attendant who was on duty that night,” she said, studying her notes. “I already checked. As luck would have it, they're both working today.”

“What can I do?” Cole asked.

She took out two copies of the photo of Lockhart and handed one to him. Briefly they discussed a plan of action and decided to meet back at the room in time for dinner. By unspoken agreement they were both aware that the evening and the rest of the night were reserved for the two of them.

When Cole disappeared into the bathroom, Annie whipped a dress from her overnight bag and hung it in the closet so it wouldn't wrinkle. By the time he came back out, she had run a brush through her hair and renewed her lip gloss.

“All set?” he asked, checking to make sure he had a room key.

“I think so.” Packing her notes, the photo and a small tablet of paper into her bag, she resisted the urge to move into his arms, and headed toward the door instead. Silently, they rode the elevator back down to the lobby.

“Happy hunting.” As the doors slid open, he merged with a cluster of people heading toward the bar and his quarry. Annie continued down to the parking garage and the pay phone she figured had been used by the last person to see Sophia alive.

 

When Cole got back to the room later, the shower was running and the bathroom door was closed.
Maybe Annie had been more successful in her quest than he had. He'd known when he started that the chance he'd uncover anything new at this point was slim, but it would have been nice to break the case wide open.

“I'm back,” he called out when the shower went off. He hung his jacket over a chair and stripped off his shirt. Before he could take a fresh one off its hanger, the door opened and Annie peered through the crack, a towel wrapped around her like a toga.

“Any luck?” she asked.

“The trail is cold. How about you?”

“I'm afraid not. The maid didn't recognize Lockhart's picture, and the garage attendant couldn't remember who used the phone that night. He was too busy getting cars for the people from the banquet your mother attended. He did say that no one else has questioned him about it, though.”

Cole shook his head angrily. “Of course not. The police had the ruby bracelet. What more proof did they need?”

“Your mother never should have been charged,” Annie replied. “Perhaps you don't want to stay. Would you rather go back to San Antonio tonight?”

Cole was tempted to push the bathroom door open wider and peel her out of that towel, but he didn't want to make her nervous. He owed her a meal before he ravished her. And ravish her thoroughly he would.

“Of course I don't want to leave,” he said with
what he hoped was a humor-filled grin. “I've heard the food here is good, and I'm looking forward to a nice, relaxing dinner. After that I'll be much too tired to drive, so I guess you're stuck here with me.”

To his relief, Annie batted her eyes. “Then I'll just finish getting ready,” she cooed.

After the door shut behind her, Cole flipped on the television to keep the image of her without that towel at bay. As he listened to the local news, he put on his shirt and knotted his tie. He thought about calling his mother, but he was reluctant to admit he was spending the night in Austin with Annie. Lily's imagination was fertile enough as it was, and he had no doubt she'd get the information out of him before he knew what he was saying.

Cole was watching a story about road rage on the freeway when he heard the latch
click
on the bathroom door. Glancing up, he nearly swallowed his tongue. Annie was poised in the doorway in a killer black dress that left her arms and a great deal of her shapely legs bare.

“Wow,” he muttered, suddenly inarticulate. She was wearing black shoes with high heels and skinny rhinestone straps. The dress had a scoop neck and black beading that made it shimmer when she moved. Her hair was down, but she'd tucked it behind her ears to reveal glittery earrings. A matching pendant winked from the shadow between her breasts.

As she floated toward him with a smile of pure
lust, Cole struggled with the image of her wearing just the pendant and the earrings. Her eyes were smoky and her lips were painted kiss-me red. The scent teasing his nostrils whispered seduction, sending a zap of electricity through him that centered somewhere south of his belt buckle.

“You look fantastic,” he managed without stuttering. Glad he'd followed his instincts, he reached for the package he'd picked up on his way back to the room, and handed it to her.

Annie's eyes widened when she saw the blood-red orchid in the clear plastic bubble. “More flowers,” she exclaimed. “Thank you.” Her smile widened. No doubt she was used to flowers from men, but Cole wanted her wearing his token tonight.

He eyed the skimpy bodice of her dress and wondered where he could pin the corsage without getting his hand smacked. Annie solved the problem for him.

“I'll wear it in my hair,” she said, looking in the mirror above the dresser. “It will be perfect.” When she'd anchored the orchid behind her ear, he had to agree.

If she hadn't looked so breathtaking, he might have been tempted to suggest they stay in the room and have dinner sent up, so he could tuck her into his arms while they waited.

Wrestling with his baser urges, he shrugged into the jacket of his suit and held out his arm. The male instinct to show her off warred with the elemental
desire to strip off the dress like Christmas paper and uncover the treasures hidden beneath. It was going to be a long evening.

 

Annie's dinner was a gourmet's delight, lovingly prepared by some genius in the kitchen and presented with flair by an attentive waiter. But for all she noticed, the meal might as well have been hash from a can. Her attention was on Cole, handsome in a dark suit, a pale gray shirt and a tie striped in charcoal and teal.

He'd ordered champagne that went straight to her head, or maybe it was just his expression that made her dizzy.

“You steal my breath,” he told her when they raised their glasses. Between bites he paid her more outrageous compliments. Annie chose to believe that he meant every word. He nibbled her fingers and made her laugh. He didn't even notice the knockout blonde at the next table with her parents, trying so hard to catch his eye. She pouted when he and Annie finally left, his hand splayed possessively on her bare back.

“I want to dance with you.” He laced his fingers through hers. “Shall we check out the band in the lounge?”

Returning his smile, Annie could only nod. They hadn't talked much, but words seemed superfluous. She would rather read the messages in his eyes.

By the time he had escorted her to the lounge
where a three-piece group made music that flowed like warm, sweet honey, all she wanted was to wrap herself around him and hold on tight. For tonight the past was only a memory, the future an uncertain blur. The present was Cole's smile and his touch, and the light of desire in his eyes.

They found a table illuminated by a single candle, but before she could sit down he led her onto the floor. The room opened to the night and a fairy garden surrounded by trees sparkling with tiny white lights. In the center was a lighted fountain, the water spilling like diamonds into a pool below. A couple danced by, silver-haired, moving in and out of the shadows with the unique grace of longtime partners.

Fleetingly, Annie wondered at their story. Had they weathered storms together, enriched each other's lives? Given comfort and unconditional trust? Believed in each other no matter what?

Cole's hands were at her waist, distracting her from wistful thoughts. Her fingers caressed his nape as they swayed, bodies brushing, breath mingling. When the song ended, he led her deeper into the walled garden.

She turned to him willingly. His arms tightened, his mouth covered hers, hot and possessive. Her brain shut down and her senses took over, soaking him up. The tip of his tongue touched her lips, retreated, stroked again. A hum of pleasure swept through her as he changed direction, blazing a trail along her jaw while his breath teased her ear. An
nie's world tilted and she clung to him, barely aware of the music or the other dancers.

“I want you, Annie-girl.” His voice was rough, the veneer of sophistication stripped away to reveal the raw need beneath.

No one had ever called her by that name but Cole. Memories clawed at her with skeletal fingers, but she resisted. “Let's go upstairs,” she whispered boldly.

His smile kept her warm all the way to their room. When they went inside, the curtains had been opened, the bed turned down. The lights of the city provided a golden glow.

Watching Annie move in that dress, Cole felt desire pulsing through him like the blows from a hammer. He led her to the window, his hands shaking when he kissed her. His heart thudded so hard that he thought she must hear it as she looked up at him, her face in shadow. Deliberately he slowed his hands, smoothing the silly little straps of her dress from her shoulders. Slippery as sin, it slid down her body, leaving her breasts bare except for the pendant suspended from its thin gold chain.

“You're so beautiful.” His voice was a rasp he barely recognized as he cupped her face in his hands and lowered his head.

Annie threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him close. Her sigh of pleasure threatened his control. When he let her go so he could strip off his jacket and tie, his gaze wandered down her body,
covered only by a scrap of sheer fabric and nylons topped with black lace. While he fumbled with cuff links and shirt buttons, she stepped out of the dress, which pooled at her feet.

The sight of her in little more than high heels and a smile was almost unbearably erotic. He'd only lost two buttons getting out of his shirt, but his belt buckle defeated him—

Annie's hands were at his waist. And in a blur of passion and need, they dealt with the rest of their clothes and sank to the bed, bodies entwined.

Loving Cole was like plunging down a water slide. Sensation after sensation rippled through Annie as he burned a trail with his fingers and followed it with his mouth. Gasping, she crested once and then again when he claimed her. Before she could draw a breath, his body shuddered and he groaned, following her over the edge.