Secret Weapon Spouse. B.J. Daniels

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Secret Weapon Spouse - B.J.  Daniels


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looked up as if sensing her return, never taking his eyes off her from the time she started toward the table until she sat down.

      It didn’t just surprise her that he could unnerve her the way he did. It scared her. The wall she’d thrown up and her cool reserve, coupled with the way she dressed and acted, kept most men at a distance. But then Alex Graham wasn’t most men. That point was starting to hit home.

      “Thank you,” he said when she was seated again. “You’ve been great tonight. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you going with me to the condo. I really don’t think I could have done that alone. You’ve been amazing.”

      She felt embarrassed by the compliment. “I’m just glad I could help.” Help, indeed, she thought with a stab of guilt at just the thought of returning to the condo for the champagne bottle and glasses. Who was helping whom?

      “So tell me. How did you become a wedding planner?”

      She picked up a corn chip and gave him her standard reply. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

      “Try me.”

      She looked at him and saw that he seemed to genuinely be interested. Maybe too interested? Talking about that part of her job seemed safe enough. As if being here in this dark intimate café with Alex was safe.

      “Well, there’s not much to tell,” she said, going with the abbreviated version. “I met Rachel and she offered me the job. I had no experience but I guess she saw what a detail person I am….”

      “You had no experience as a wedding planner? You don’t strike me as one of those women who always dreamed of her own wedding day,” he said.

      She’d been playing with the chip but now set it down on her napkin. She could feel the heat of his gaze and felt her throat go dry. “No. I always thought I’d elope.” Her smile felt like plastic left out too long in the sun. “But I can understand why some couples want a large wedding. For most people it’s the biggest event they will ever…” He’d made her remember how she’d once pictured her own wedding.

      “Endure?” he suggested when she didn’t go on.

      She could only nod.

      “Frankly? It sounds awful,” he said as if he’d seen her discomfort. “Months of planning and hassle for a few minutes before a preacher. Months and months of planning.”

      She took a drink of the beer the waiter put in front of her, thankful to him for saving her from a strained silence. “It does take a lot of planning because basically you’re putting on a theatrical production not that much different from a Broadway play.”

      “Interesting perspective and appropriate since a wedding has so little to do with a marriage, don’t you think?”

      She smiled. “The wedding is fantasy, that’s for sure. Some more than others. Look at some of the popular wedding themes. Antony and Cleopatra, Romeo and Juliet, Lancelot and Guinevere and then there are Royalty and Fairyland weddings, weddings In the Clouds, On the Rooftop, By the Sea…”

      He laughed. “I had no idea.” He shook his head, seeming to be enjoying himself. “No wonder I’ve never gotten married.” He turned serious. “I don’t mean to make light of what you do, but it really is a lot of smoke and mirrors, isn’t it.”

      If he only knew. Both of her jobs were a lot of both. She began to relax. “We joke that we’re in show business. But if you put on a great show everyone is happy and that’s what it’s all about.”

      They snacked on the chips and salsa for a few moments, a comfortable silence falling between them.

      “Three months isn’t enough for the type of show my father wants, is it,” he said after a while.

      “Not really,” she admitted. “I’m going to have to pull a few rabbits out of my hat but don’t worry, I won’t let your sister down.”

      He smiled almost ruefully. “I’m sure you won’t but it might not be a problem. There might not be a wedding because there might not be a groom.” He held up his hands as if in surrender. “I know. You’re convinced this fiancé of hers is in love with her and wouldn’t desert her—especially pregnant. I hope you’re right.”

      So did she, but it was getting tougher to keep making excuses for Preston Wellington III.

      ALEX COULDN’T REMEMBER a meal he’d enjoyed more. While Caroline was never far from his thoughts, he stopped obsessing over her missing fiancé. He liked the idea of being an uncle. It wasn’t like Caroline would be alone or penniless. He would see to that.

      Even though he wasn’t sure he should, he liked Samantha Peters. She’d drawn him out, asking about his job as a fireman. She’d seemed genuinely interested and had laughed at his stories from the firehouse. He’d steered clear of the anguish that often came with his job.

      As they finished their meal, he asked, “The woman who was abducted. Have they found her?”

      Samantha shook her head. “There’s been no word.”

      He was shocked to hear it and even more shocked to realize he hadn’t given the other woman a thought. He’d been too involved with his sister’s hit-and-run.

      “I’m sorry,” he said. “You think she was kidnapped?”

      “I don’t know.”

      “But no ransom demand has been made yet?” he asked, still convinced that there had to be a connection between his sister and the driver of that car.

      “Not that I’ve heard.”

      “Thank you again,” he said. Just looking at her made him feel better.

      “It’s been my pleasure—” She broke off, seemingly a little flustered. It wasn’t like her and he found himself smiling at her again. “I enjoyed dinner,” she amended.

      “Me, too.” His gaze locked with hers, her brown eyes seeming to shimmer. He wanted to reach across the table and remove her glasses, brush her hair back from her face and—

      Her cell phone rang. He watched her glance at the caller ID and saw her expression change.

      “I’m sorry,” she said. “I need to take this.”

      He nodded, the moment lost as she got up and stepped away from the table. He didn’t know if he should feel disappointment. Or relief. He had been about to make a fool of himself.

      “PETERS,” SAMANTHA SAID into the phone, hoping this was going to be good news.

      “Samantha, it’s Rachel. I just wanted to let you know that you were right about the black limo. Looks like it was stolen off a car lot in Fort Lauderdale. Matches the description.”

      “Has the car been found?” Samantha asked, glad she had gotten something right since there was a good chance that she’d been wrong about Caroline’s fiancé.

      “Not yet,” Rachel said. “How are things at your end?”

      Interesting. “Fine,” she said glancing back toward the table and Alex. “I’m still going by the hospital tonight. I thought I’d drop in on Craig Johnson. I know it’s late, but maybe he’s remembered something. I’ll visit Caroline tomorrow, instead.”

      “Good idea.”

      She rang off and walked back to the table.

      Alex was just putting his cell phone away. He’d paid their dinner bill and looked anxious.

      “I should get to the hospital. Would you mind if we stopped on the way back?” he asked, rising.

      She’d hoped to go to the hospital alone but maybe she could make this work and save herself a trip since she would have to go back to the condo as it was. “Of course not. Is everything all right?”

      He nodded,


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