Undercover Fiancee Read online

  “I was laughing because you had my manager nailed to the wall in a matter of seconds. I’ll say it again. I stand in awe of your many talents, hidden and otherwise.”

  Like a shooting star, that mysterious smile of hers he loved made an unexpected appearance.

  “Coming from you that’s a real compliment.”

  “From me?”

  “Don’t be modest, Rand. While your talents have put you at the head of a megacorporation, the rest of us are mere peons by comparison.”

  “Don’t forget my megacorporation would be on the verge of toppling if it weren’t for you. Any time you want to change careers, you have a permanent position as head of Dunbarton Security.” On top of my personal plans for you, of course.

  Her expression sobered. “I’m afraid I don’t do well when I’m tied down to one spot day in and day out.”

  Whether you like it or not, life as you know it is about to change in the near future, sweetheart.

  “How do you think you’ll last eight hours on the job tonight?”

  “That’s different. I’m on a quest.”

  He smiled. “The list you wanted is on the buffet.”

  “Good. Just to be safe I’ll wear my recorder on the employee breaks as well as while I’m answering calls. If a name is mentioned I can’t remember, we’ll play back the tape after I’m off duty and check it against names on the list.”

  He nodded his assent. “Shall we eat?”

  “Yes. I’m starving. Everything looks and smells delicious.” For the next few minutes Annabelle relished her meal in silence. When she noticed that he hadn’t been talking she said, “I had no idea you could cook.”

  “In high school, while mother was so ill with cancer, I prepared all the meals for the family.”

  Her fork paused midway between her mouth and her plate. “You never told me that before.”

  “Probably because I knew if I ever took you to my condo, we’d end up making love. When I found out you were saving yourself for your husband, I decided to behave honorably because I didn’t want to make any mistakes with you.”

  He heard the fork drop.

  “After the dozens of hotel rooms I’ve had to put good it feels to be in a real home for a change.”

  “I’m surprised with your size that you don’t have claustrophobia by now.”

  “I’m managing just fine,” he drawled. When her defenses went up, then he knew he was making progress in breaking her down. “Since you’ve got to get into your disguise again and report for work pretty soon, maybe now would be a good time to discuss the sleeping arrangements.”

  On cue she pushed her chair back and stood up. He got to his feet, as well. Clearing some of the dishes, he followed her into the kitchen.

  “My office is downstairs. There’s a comfortable Hide-A-Bed. It might be the best place for you to sleep because it’s next to the equipment. There’s bedding in the linen closet. I’ll get it.”

  “Let me,” he urged. “After I finish the dishes, I’ll make up the bed. You go do what you need to do. Oh, before I forget. Your friend, Janet, left you a message on your voice mail. It sounded urgent.”

  The news seemed to jar her. “I’d better phone her before I leave for work.”

  Rand pulled a key out of his pocket and laid it on the counter near her hand. “In case I forgot to tell you, I’m staying at the Temple View Hotel, room twenty-five.”

  When the knock came, Annabelle groaned and pulled the pillow over her head. It couldn’t be Rand He would have phoned first.

  She’d purposely placed the Do Not Disturb sign outside his hotel room door so the maids would leave her alone. Since coming off the night shift at Dunbarton’s, she’d only been asleep three hours and needed at least three more to wake up halfway human.

  To add insult to injury, she’d learned nothing new to help with the case. Last night’s phone calls were the usual hodgepodge of anxiety-ridden users who had wandered down strange roads and needed someone to show them the way back again.

  The only interesting phone conversation had been the one she’d made to Rand. She’d experienced an unexpected thrill when she’d heard him answer the phone from her own home and knew he would be there all the time.

  Only until this case is closed, Annabelle.

  After telling him there was nothing to report on her end, she could have talked to him all night. Of course that would have defeated the purpose of her being there. The hardest thing she’d ever had to do was tell him she had to hang up and get back to work.

  Maybe Bryan Ludlow had taken the night off because not one person had called in on her line with complaints about the horrible service they’d been getting. None of the other technicians seemed to be dealing with angry patrons, either. It was a quiet night all the way around.

  Annabelle had tried to engage at least one of the employees in a meaningful tête-à-tête. But most of them were men who didn’t turn out to be the least bit talkative. The women were a little more friendly. Occasionally she would wander by their cubicles for a chat. But on the whole, it wasn’t a social scene.

  Maybe everyone was too tired to interact on the breaks, or they resented her getting too friendly on her first night at work.

  Whatever, Annabelle had come back to the hotel thinking maybe this had been a bad idea. Maybe Bryan Ludlow had grown bored of his own destructive behavior and had moved on to something else.

  The knocking on the door persisted, jarring Annabelle from her unproductive thoughts. Then she heard the sound of several female voices.

  Annabelle frowned and sat up. Rand had signed up for this room for an indefinite period. The hotel housekeeping staff wouldn’t be expecting him to vacate it at the usual checkout time. Maybe someone’s child, left unattended, had taken the signs off the doors making it impossible for the maids to know which rooms to make up and which ones to leave alone.

  She wished everyone would go away. Pulling the blanket over her head, she was just about ready to lie down again when the door opened and the light went on.

  “Rand? Darling?”

  The sound of another woman calling out to Rand in soft, sultry tones caused Annabelle to let go of the blanket.

  A beautiful woman looking the epitome of every golden-haired princess out of every Grimm’s fairy tale, except for her modern day clothes, stood there staring at Annabelle.

  Rand’s words came back to mock her. There’s no Mrs. Dunbarton in my future.

  She didn’t know which of them was the most surprised. The woman’s china blue eyes made a thorough assessment of Annabelle dressed in an oversize white T-shirt—her normal nightwear—before her incredulous gaze swept around the hotel room.

  Annabelle looked where the other woman was looking and experienced a hot flash as the blood stormed her cheeks.

  She’d been so tired when she’d come in the darkened room at six-thirty this morning, she hadn’t noticed that Rand’s suitcase had been left open on the other bed. There were a couple of white T-shirts that looked like the one she was wearing, plus some polo shirts which were lying on top of the covers. A belt and jeans had been thrown over a chair. He’d also left a pair of socks and some running shoes on the floor.

  Worse, Annabelle had put her steel-rimmed glasses and blond wig on the dresser next to Rand’s expensive leather briefcase standing near the television console.

  The rest of her suit lay on one of those luggage racks at the end of the bed supplied by the hotel.

  The sight of Coke cans and a potato chip bag gave the room a well lived in look, as if they’d had quite a night of it. Annabelle had no idea Rand was so messy. Because of her moral upbringing, they’d never lived together or slept together.

  “Where’s Rand?” the blond vision demanded in a wicked stepmother-type voice. Annabelle couldn’t blame her. If the other woman was on a “darling” basis with Rand, then she had every right to know what was going on.

  If the shoe had been on the other foot, and Annabelle had walked in on Ra
nd only to find another woman in his bed, Annabelle probably would have had a heart attack from the pain and someone would have been forced to call 911.

  “He’s at work.”

  “I see. And who are you?”

  “I’m Merilee. Listen, I’m afraid this isn’t what it looks like, Ms...”

  “Graham.” The woman’s lovely face had paled. “It never is, Merilee.”

  Was she the vegan, or the woman mentioned in the magazine article? “I really can explain.”

  “Go ahead.” She stood there ramrod-stiff in her heavenly peach-colored suit and pearls, waiting for a plausible explanation when she’d already suspected the very worst.

  Annabelle had to think. Electronic sabotage could be carried out on a local scale by an amateur like Bryan Ludlow, or it could be the work of professionals with an eye to ruining Rand’s company from coast to coast and they had somehow inveigled Bryan to work for them.

  Because of that fact, Annabelle had to treat everyone as a suspect, even Ms. Graham. To make matters worse, Rand hadn’t discussed his personal life with Annabelle, so she didn’t know if the other woman knew why Rand had left Phoenix to come to Salt Lake.

  However one thing seemed fairly evident. Rand hadn’t been expecting this woman to visit, be she his girlfriend, fiancée or lover. Otherwise he would never have suggested that Annabelle use his hotel room while they were trying to track down Bryan and his accomplice.

  “I’m an acquaintance of his, Ms. Graham. After work I realized that I had gotten locked out of my house, so I phoned Mr. Dunbarton for help. He was already up this morning and getting ready for work when I called. So he told me I could come over and use his hotel room until I could get hold of a locksmith to take care of the problem.”

  Her eyes had turned arctic navy. “Rand hasn’t been to Salt Lake in ages. How do you know him? What kind of work do you?”

  “I—I’m a hair stylist,” she dissembled. “I specialize in wigs,” she added when she saw Ms. Graham had been staring at it. “I’ve cut his hair before. Yesterday Mr. Dunbarton came into the shop where I worked and asked if I’d give him a trim. He happened to mention that he was staying at the Temple View Hotel while he was in town on business.”

  “So of course you called him the second you got off work and trotted right over here.”

  “No—it didn’t happen like that. As I told you, I went home, but I couldn’t get in. So I drove to a pay phone and called his hotel, hoping he would contact a locksmith for me.”

  “And you couldn’t possibly have called one yourself.”

  “Yes. I could have, but I only had a quarter, and I was afraid that if I lost it, I would be out of luck. Since he said he was always up at five-thirty in the morning, I wasn’t afraid to wake him.”

  “How sweet. When did you call him?”

  “At six-thirty.” You’re in for so many lies now, you’re never going to keep things straight.

  “You got off work at six-thirty this morning?”

  “Yes. Our shop is open twenty-four hours a day except Sundays. Anyway, he said I could come over here and make myself at home because he was leaving for work. We never even saw each other. He left a key for me at the desk. It’s right there.” At least that was the truth.

  “Has a locksmith been called?”

  “Yes. He’s meeting me at my house at noon.”

  “Well—now that I’m here, I think you’d better go before Rand discovers how you’ve taken advantage of his generosity. I’ll give the key back to him.”

  The woman hadn’t believed a word of Annabelle’s story. Annabelle herself had to admit it was the worst she’d ever told, but better Ms. Graham suspect Rand of being unfaithful than for Annabelle to give away something she shouldn’t.

  She was confident that when this case was solved and Ms. Graham had been cleared of any duplicity, Rand would use his potent male charm to explain things to this woman’s complete satisfaction. No doubt at some future point Ms. Graham was in line to become Mrs. Rand Dunbarton.

  A devastated Annabelle held back the tears that would gush later, when she was in the privacy of her own home. Alone.

  Under the circumstances it was probably a good thing Ms. Graham had entered Rand’s hotel room uninvited. The woman’s unexpected appearance had given Annabelle the wake-up call of her life!

  “I’ll get dressed right away.”

  “You do that. I’ll give you exactly five minutes to be gone from here.”

  To her horror, the other woman stayed planted where she was. Annabelle leaped from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed. There wasn’t a moment to lose. She needed to get Rand on the cellular phone, but it was still under the pillow of the bed where she’d been sleeping.

  When she emerged a few minutes later, she found Ms. Graham on the hotel phone, demanding that someone get Rand on the line. Obviously she’d called the Salt Lake store and wasn’t about to be put off. That gesture led Annabelle to question whether Ms. Graham knew anything at all about the problems besetting Rand’s business.

  But in any event, the present situation couldn’t be allowed to continue. Annabelle found some hotel stationery and jotted down her home phone number. Then she walked over to the other woman who appeared to have been put on hold.

  “Mr. Dunbarton said he would leave this number in case I ran into any problems,” Annabelle murmured. “I imagine it’s a private line to his office. You shouldn’t have any trouble reaching him.”

  “Just one minute!” she cried out furiously. “Since you seem to know so much about every intimate detail of his private life, you’re not going anywhere until I’ve had a talk with him.”

  Her glorious golden hair flew as she snatched the paper from Annabelle’s fingers and jabbed the phone buttons to make the call. In that split second, Annabelle reached for the cellular phone beneath the pillow and slid it inside the pocket of her blazer.

  “Don’t you dare leave this room,” she hissed when Annabelle started for the door with her wig and glasses in hand. “I’ve taken all I’m going to take. Now I want to hear Rand’s version and you’re going to stay to hear it.”

  “I’d rather not. I’m only a friend.”

  “Like hell you are.”

  Annabelle felt worse than a worm as she was forced to listen to Ms. Graham’s blow-by-blow version of what had happened since she’d arrived in Salt Lake, especially the part about talking the hotel maid into letting her into Rand’s room.

  Between bouts of rage and sobs, her words were practically incoherent. Annabelle had the grace to feel sorry for her. She was obviously very much in love with Rand. Annabelle could relate completely. She felt like sobbing herself. Howling.

  In time the other woman grew quiet. Undoubtedly Rand had begun his explanation. Whatever he said seemed to be working. Not a sound escaped Ms. Graham’s lips. Eventually she hung up the receiver and turned to Annabelle. Her cheeks were highly flushed and her blue eyes held a strange glitter.

  “When I met Rand, he said he wasn’t involved with anyone,” she began in a low, trembling voice. “It’s so strange.” She shook her head, acting almost as if she were talking to herself. “You think you know a man. You think you know what he wants, when all along he’s wanted something else. Someone else.”

  Annabelle felt distinctly uncomfortable. This woman was bearing her soul to a perfect stranger.

  “You can drop the act and stop acting so coy. It’s obvious he wants you. Apparently it’s been you for a long time.”

  It was Annabelle’s turn to tremble. Rand had allowed this woman to go on believing a lie, which meant Ms. Graham could still be a suspect in his eyes. But didn’t he have any idea how much damage he had done to their relationship by sustaining it?

  This woman adored him, had come all the way from Phoenix to be with him. Annabelle hadn’t thought he could be so cruel.

  “You’re wrong, Ms. Graham.” She spoke forcefully. “I told you before. We’re only passing acquaintances.”
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  “Well—maybe for you it’s only a passing thing, but he’s painfully in love with you. That much I do know.”

  Annabelle’s hands spread apart in frustration. “You’re just saying that because you’re so upset. I know how awful I would have felt if the same thing had happened to me.”

  “Stop trying to cover everything up,” she countered quietly. “I happen to know Rand wasn’t lying just now.”

  All Annabelle could think about as Ms. Graham left the room and shut the door was that Rand had gone into the wrong business. He played his role so convincingly, he ought to have been an agent for the CIA. In fact, that was the first thing she told him when she got him on the phone seconds later.

  After she’d given him a strong piece of her mind he said, “If you’ve finished, I suggest you crawl back in bed and go to sleep. I figured you wouldn’t be up until three or four this afternoon at least.

  “By the time you arrive for dinner, the chicken I’ve been marinating since last night will be ready. I hope you love shish kebabs as much as I do.”

  “Of course I love them, but that’s not the point, Rand. She’s hurting.”

  “So’s my company,” he came back on a much more serious note.

  “But—”

  “I didn’t invite her here, Annabelle, but some people don’t wait for an invitation.”

  “If they’re in love, they shouldn’t have to!” she blurted.

  “That’s assuming, of course, that both parties are of the exact same mind.”

  “You mean you’re not?”

  “No, I’m not, and Caroline knew this a long time ago. She just didn’t believe it until today.”

  Annabelle had this suffocating feeling in her chest because he sounded so sincere.

  “Unfortunately she thinks I’m the reason, Rand. It was horrible when she caught me asleep in your bed. If you had seen the look on her face... By just being here I hurt her horribly.”

  “Your compassion does you great credit, Annabelle.”