You're Marrying Her?. Angie Ray
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anymore.”
Sam couldn’t stop staring at her. The only thing she could think to say was “He’ll only have $50 million once he gives half to his employees.”
Ashes fell from Heather’s cigarette to the pristine marble floor. “God, are you naive. You don’t really think I would allow him to do that? You really fell for my little act in there, didn’t you? I thought another woman would see through that pack of lies immediately. So, what are you going to do now? Tattle to Brad?”
“Brad’s my friend.”
Heather laughed—an ugly, distorted sound. “Don’t tell me—you’re one for all and all for one, or some crap like that, right? God, what century were you born in? Tell him whatever you like—he’ll never believe you.” She cast a sly sideways look at Sam. “He’s so besotted, he would never take someone else’s word over mine.”
“You think so?”
“I know so, sweetie.” Heather stubbed out the cigarette on the floor. “Don’t try to make trouble for me—or you’ll regret it.”
Heather popped several breath mints in her mouth, then glided out of the bathroom. Sam stood where she was, staring at the crushed cigarette butt on the floor. She felt like she’d wandered into a soap opera—with Heather playing the part usually reserved for Susan Lucci.
In something of a daze, Sam walked back to the table. She spent the next half hour watching Heather smile and laugh and press up against Brad as if she thought he was the most wonderful man in the world. No one watching her would ever doubt that she was deeply, wholeheartedly in love with the man at her side.
Sam could barely doubt it herself. The scene in the bathroom was beginning to take on a surreal quality—it seemed like a bad dream. Could she have imagined it?
Heather glanced over at her. For an instant, a catlike smile curved her lips. Then it vanished and she was gazing up at Brad, the adoration back in her eyes.
Sam’s lips tightened. No, she hadn’t imagined it. Without a doubt, the blonde was the greediest, most conniving female she’d ever met. Sam wouldn’t have believed such an amoral person existed if she hadn’t heard the evidence with her own ears. Heather didn’t care about Brad at all—she cared only about his money.
Sam’s gaze flickered to Brad. He smiled down into Heather’s eyes, completely unaware of her deceit. Poor Brad. Did he have any idea what he was getting himself into? No, of course not. Poor, poor, poor Brad.
He thought Heather was perfect. He was in love with her. He would be devastated when he found out the truth. Sam hated to think of him being hurt like that.
Memories flashed through her brain—memories of Brad listening while she ranted and raved about Joe Danvers’s jerkiness. Joe had dumped her because she wouldn’t have sex with him, and her pride had been hurt more than her heart, but still Brad had listened and supported her decision.
Brad had always been there for her. If it hadn’t been for him, she never would have gotten through calculus in college. She’d had little aptitude for math, but he’d explained the theorems over and over until she’d understood.
He’d been there, too, when her parents divorced, and then, a year later, when her father died. She’d cried on his shoulder, and he’d rocked her and smoothed her hair back from her face and held her tightly. The warmth of his arms around her had helped banish the coldness, given her strength to go on.
Brad was a nice guy. The nicest guy she’d ever known. He didn’t deserve a piece of work like Heather.
Brad bent over to whisper something in the blonde’s ear. As if reading Sam’s thoughts, Heather stared at her, her gaze mocking.
Sam clenched her teeth until they ached. She couldn’t let Brad ruin his life. He was her friend. She had to do something to save him. He needed her.
She wasn’t going to let him down.
Chapter Four
The easiest course of action would be to have a talk with Brad and tell him what Heather had said to her, Sam decided. The blonde was unbelievably arrogant—did she really think that Brad would believe her over his old friend, Sam?
Therefore, when the meal was finished and Brad suggested dropping Heather off at her hotel before driving Sam home, she was delighted.
Heather’s eyes narrowed, but all she said was “Hurry back, Brad. I have a present for you—a surprise.”
The way the woman was licking her lips made Sam think that the “surprise” wouldn’t be a new one. Brad probably wouldn’t care about anything once the blonde got her hands on him.
The thought was an unpleasant one. Extremely unpleasant. It was still gnawing at Sam a few minutes later when she was in the car with Brad speeding down the freeway. She supposed it was foolish to be bothered by the thought of Brad and Heather having sex. They were two normal, healthy adults who planned to get married. Heather didn’t exactly look like Little Bo Peep, and she’d made it clear that she found Brad attractive. Incredibly attractive, she’d called him. How strange. Sam never thought of him that way.
“Isn’t Heather fantastic?” Brad’s voice broke the silence. “I still can’t believe she agreed to marry me.”
“I can.” Sam couldn’t prevent the slightly sarcastic note from creeping into her voice.
Brad gave her a quick sideways glance before returning his gaze to the lane of traffic before him. “What do you mean, Sammy? You said yourself she’s perfect.”
“No one is perfect. I think interesting might be a better word for Heather.”
“Interesting?” Brad’s eyebrows rose. “That sounds like someone describing a blind date. Come on, tell me what you really think.”
Watching his expression in the dim glare from the passing streetlights, Sam said carefully, “She seemed a little different when we were in the bathroom.”
“Different in what way?”
“Not quite as friendly.”
Brad exited the freeway and braked at a stoplight. He turned to face Sam. “There’s something you have to understand about Heather. She’s really gotten a raw deal from other women. Most of them dislike her because of her looks and try to undermine her. You wouldn’t believe some of the stories they’ve made up about her. One woman actually tried to make me believe that Heather was only interested in my money! I had considered the woman a friend, but after that, I broke off contact with her.”
Sam gaped at him.
“I can see you’re as shocked as I was,” Brad said. “And I’m sure you’ll agree that it’s no wonder Heather sometimes seems a little wary. I told her you weren’t like that, though. I told her you would never say bitchy, malicious things about her behind her back.”
“No. No, of course I wouldn’t,” Sam managed to say. She couldn’t believe it—Heather had made it virtually impossible for Sam to say anything bad about her! The blonde was extraordinarily devious.
The light changed and the car moved forward again. Sam gazed out the window at the passing cars, silently cursing Heather’s cleverness. She would have to proceed cautiously. “But have you ever wondered if some of the things those women said might be true?”
“Absolutely not. Oh, I realize she might seem a bit standoffish when you first meet her, but that’s because she’s actually very shy.”
Shy? Oh, please. Why were men such fools over a pretty face and a gorgeous body? “You’ve known her how long—four months?” In spite of her inner thoughts, Sam managed to keep her voice neutral.
“We’ve been dating almost two months.”
“Two months! That’s not very long at