A Fortune's Children's Wedding. Barbara Boswell

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A Fortune's Children's Wedding - Barbara  Boswell


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young policeman who didn’t meet her steady gaze. “Remember that Mara Quinlan was my foster child from the time she was thirteen. That we were the only ones willing to help her get away from that monster her mother married—the one your department finally got around to putting in jail after he nearly killed a man in a fight. You think about all that while you’re ransacking my house.”

      “Give TJ a break, Mama.” Angelica heaved a sigh. “He’s just doing his job.”

      “Yeah, like the Gestapo did theirs.” Romina scowled. “Did Mara ever tell you that she was here baby-sitting during that first raid, TJ? She wouldn’t open the door and the cops kicked it in. Poor Mara was scared to death, she was even more upset than Sarah and Casper who were only eleven and nine at the time. You could’ve knocked me over with a feather when Mara told me she’d started dating a cop. After that raid, she was so hostile toward the police.”

      TJ made a strangled sound and followed Sarah into the house.

      “Mama, don’t try to make trouble for TJ with Mara,” Angelica warned her mother. “He’s a nice guy.”

      “Don’t forget to add, ‘for a cop,’” drawled Flynt, unable to refrain from commenting.

      “I’ve known TJ Gibson for years, long before he became a cop.” Angelica eyed him coolly. “He’s a nice guy, period.”

      “Angel went to the Junior Prom with TJ. He was crazy about her. Of course, I can’t remember when Angelica hasn’t had guys crazy about her.” Romina’s smile could have been one of maternal pride—or of malice.

      Flynt suspected the latter because she aimed it directly at him. As if he cared who Angelica had gone to the Junior Prom with…as if he cared if there were battalions of men lusting after her!

      Of course he didn’t care. But he found himself wondering if there was currently a particular man in her life. He hadn’t investigated her private life for the Fortunes, other than her marital status and lack of offspring.

      “Might as well go inside and have some iced tea.” Romina was suddenly, inexplicably cheerful. “The goon squad won’t be in the kitchen long, it’s too small for anybody to be hidden in there. Of course, our refrigerator does have a fairly big vegetable drawer. Think you’ll find somebody hiding out in it, Webber?”

      “You’re a zillion laughs, Romina.” Webber pushed past her and marched inside.

      “Can I have some iced tea, too, Mama?” Casper had jumped up from the chair and was circling the group.

      “You can have a glass of milk,” said Romina. “It’s better for you.”

      “Can I have some cookies?” the boy asked.

      “They’re the special orders for campus delivery and—oh, all right, you can have one oatmeal cookie.” Romina entered the house. “But just one.”

      “I want two, an oatmeal and a chocolate chip. I’m too skinny, I need to bulk up.” Casper continued to badger his mother as he trailed her inside.

      “Okay, okay. You can have two. Now stop nagging!”

      Angelica started after them. Flynt caught her arm, pulling her back to him.

      “The warrant, the search, the items listed to be seized as evidence—” he took a sharp breath “—this is serious business, Angelica. The affidavit cites possible federal charges against your mother for aiding and abetting a fugitive and for violating custody laws. Conspiracy and obstruction of justice charges are mentioned. And then there are additional state charges filed in New Jersey for interfering with custody arrangements. I don’t get it. What on earth is your mother—”

      “My mother doesn’t deserve to be treated like a common criminal,” Angelica said stiffly. “Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop it from happening.”

      Flynt noticed that she was staring at Weatherall and Searcy as she spoke, her words directed to them as much as to him. The two men had remained on the porch while the uniformed officers were inside the house, presumably searching and seizing.

      What were they looking for? Flynt wondered. Or who? He was truly flummoxed.

      “Did you use to work for the Bureau, like the kid said, Corrigan?” Weatherall asked him curiously.

      “For seven years.” Flynt nodded. “Minus the license to kill of course.” Maybe supplying a few details of his former career would win him some information in exchange. “I was based in California. Mostly Silicon Valley, investigating economic espionage.”

      “No kidding?” Weatherall looked interested. “I’ve heard there’s a lot of industrial espionage and commercial spying out there in those high-tech companies.”

      “Research and development, manufacturing and marketing plans, and customer lists are all at risk,” affirmed Flynt.

      “Also heard you electronic whiz kids are always being lured away from the Bureau by private industry. You can name your own price when you decide to leave,” Weatherall added, a little wistfully.

      Flynt shrugged. “I decided I’d rather be my own boss, so I started Security Management Systems five years ago. Agent Weatherall, would you mind telling me what’s going on around here?”

      “Seems pretty obvious.” Searcy was sarcastic. “The cops are searching the place. Whiz kid like you couldn’t figure that out?”

      Flynt ignored him. “I tracked down Romina Carroll for the Fortune Corporation and found no record of any criminal activity,” he persisted.

      “Don’t beat yourself up over it. Romina’s never been charged with anything. Probably never will be, at this rate,” Weatherall said, his tone consoling. “She’s downright gifted at making investigators feel stupid.”

      “Did you ever consider that you feel stupid because Mama is not a criminal and that’s why she’s never been charged with anything?” Angelica argued crossly. She looked up at Flynt, her dark eyes glittering. “The reason you didn’t find records of criminal activity is because there aren’t any.”

      “Yeah, Romina is a regular heroine,” Searcy said snidely. “So I guess that makes Ted Carson and me the villains, huh, babe?”

      “You said it, not me,” snapped Angelica.

      She looked like she wanted to rip out Searcy’s lungs with her bare hands. Flynt made a mental note not to ever call her “babe.” And then he realized that he was still holding her arm, just above the elbow. Unable to stop himself, he lightly stroked the inner skin with his thumb. It was exquisitely soft, smooth as satin, and he felt the effects deep down inside him.

      Angelica’s heart jumped at the subtle caress. She swiftly glanced down to see Flynt’s fingers wrapped around her arm and realized how strange it was that she had actually forgotten he was holding on to her. But she’d remained unaware of it until…

      His thumb continued its gentle, sensuous movements. She lifted her eyes to his. Her heartbeat seemed to be roaring in her head. It felt good, having Flynt touch her. So good she wanted more. Angelica shivered and moved even closer to him, seized by an impulsive urge to press herself against him. The urge swiftly was transformed into yearning, deep and unfamiliar, yet thoroughly enticing.

      She jerked up her head and locked eyes with Flynt. Oh, his eyes! If eyes were the window to the soul, as poets claimed, then Flynt’s was an alert, intelligent and breathtakingly sexy one. The turn her thoughts had taken astonished her. But then, never before had she looked into a man’s eyes and felt such—such—

      Desire. The admission hit her hard. Angelica panicked. Her inexplicable affinity for Flynt Corrigan was leading her down a road she was too apprehensive, too controlled to dare to go.

      It was dangerous for her to have these feelings. Not to mention stupid. Angelica attempted to whip herself back into her safe, smart preFlynt self.

      “Let go of my


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