On the Way to a Wedding . . . by Ingrid Weaver

Author:Ingrid Weaver
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-06-03T00:00:00+00:00

The trail had been skillfully buried. It took most of the morning to wade through the layers, but eventually they had the address of a condominium that was in a building on the same block as the parking garage. It was officially owned by one of Duxbury’s subsidiary companies, which in turn leased it to another company. At the end of the chain was a business that as far as Lauren’s research showed had only one employee, Wanda Smith.

Nick knew in his gut this was the break he’d been waiting for. It all fit. If Duxbury had been visiting his girlfriend the afternoon Joey had been killed, that would have put him in the right place at the right time. It would also explain the ease with which he’d put together that phony alibi—if cheating on his wife was a regular occurrence, he’d probably had flunkies like Kohl swear to countless fictitious meetings over the years.

Wanda Smith wasn’t home when they visited her condominium, but thanks to Lauren’s cool, low-key persuasion, they’d learned from the building’s superintendent that she was a singer. And thanks to the information Lauren had compiled, they also learned that the nightclub where Wanda worked happened to be owned by another tangle of subsidiary companies that led back to Duxbury.

Drumming his fingers on the dashboard, Nick glanced at Lauren’s profile as she drove through the midafternoon traffic. He was starting to depend more and more on her help. And the closer they worked together, the more difficult it was to concentrate on work.

He liked to see her hair down like that. It fell in soft waves to her shoulders, framing her face in a sensual caress, making him remember the silky feel of it through his fingers. But he liked to see it twisted up on the back of her head, too. Hell, he’d still like it if she cut it short and dyed it red.

Of course, she’d probably claim that she’d never consider doing anything so reckless or spontaneous. Before last night, he’d have probably agreed. But as he’d said, that kiss had changed everything.

Angling his long legs into a more comfortable position, he leaned against the door, propping his elbow on the base of the window as he let his gaze move to her lips. He’d focused on her mouth more times than he could count today. Technically, all they had done was kiss, but he’d never known a kiss could be so... involving.

He knew she had a hang-up about marriage. It was understandable, considering her childhood and that bastard who had left her at the altar. He wasn’t interested in talking her out of it, anyway, since he wasn’t about to risk another commitment like that again, either. They both knew their association was only temporary, and that was fine, too. So exactly what was it that he wanted?

Unlike the other questions that plagued him lately, the answer to that one was easy. One night with her. To get her out of his system.

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