About Last Night... (21 page)

The door opened and Steve's Cole Haan loafers came into view. Janine bit her lip, certain she was about to be discovered.

"About time, man," Steve said, walking inside.

"Sorry," Derek said, and the door closed. "I was talking to … an important client. What are you doing here?"

"Haven't you heard? The quarantine's been lifted."

She closed her eyes in relief. At least she could get out of here. Away from Derek. Her chest tightened strangely, not

surprising considering her present confinement. Inhale, exhale.

"I
drove up as soon as I heard," Steve continued. "Here." A paper rattled. "This was sticking half under your door. It says

you're a free man." He walked over to the window and flung open the curtains, spilling light over the wooden floor. "This

place is like a tomb—it's almost ten o'clock. I thought you were an early riser, man."

Derek grunted. "These damn allergies have me all messed up."

"Are you taking anything for them?"

"Yeah, some over-the-counter stuff."

Steve laughed, a harsh sound. "If Janine were here, she'd be plying you with some cockamamy tea made from crabgrass or

something."

She blinked, stung by the cutting sarcasm in his voice.

"Well," Derek said with a small laugh, "she's definitely not here."

"I wonder if she knows about the quarantine being lifted."

"Um, I suspect she does," Derek hedged.

The Cole Haan loafers came closer and closer to the bed, then suddenly, the box springs bounced down, slamming into her

shoulder blades and momentarily knocking the breath out of her. While gasping for air, she realized Steve had dropped onto the

bed.

"What the hell are you doing?" Derek's angry voice penetrated her wheezing fog.

"What?" Steve sounded confused.

"Take it easy, you'll break the bed!"

Steve laughed. "Relax, man, I'm sure this bed has seen its share of bouncing."

Janine winced. If he only knew.

A long-suffering sigh escaped Steve. "I guess
my
bed-bouncing days are over."

Janine frowned.

"Man, am I going to miss being single. I hate like hell to grow up."

Derek's laugh sounded forced. "I'm sure married life will suit you. From what I've seen of Janine—

" he cleared his

throat"

— she seems like a great gal."

"Yeah, she's a sweetheart. My parents love her."

But not Steve, she realized, shaken that she hadn't noticed sooner how ill-matched they were, how they never really laughed

together, shared the intimate details of their everyday life or planned for the future.

"In fact, Janine is the first woman I ever brought home that my mother considered good enough to wear my grandmother's

ring."

Her heart skipped a beat.

"An heirloom, eh?" Derek asked. "You probably arranged for her to wear a fake until you're actually married?"

Janine brightened considerably at the possibility.

"Oh, no," Steve said with nonchalance. "Mom insisted she wear the real thing. Pure platinum and flawless diamonds, about

forty thousand dollars' worth."

She felt faint.

Derek made a choking sound. "Wow, you must really love this woman."

"She's terrific," he responded, and Janine wondered if Derek realized how evasive his friend was being. "It's funny, though,"

Steve continued, his voice tinged with regret. "She's never really turned me on physically."

Mortification flowered in her chest. It was just as she'd feared. And in front of Derek, no less.

"Steve," Derek began, his voice echoing her embarrassment, but Steve seemed to be in a talkative mood.

"Oh, she's cute and all, and I have to admit, I'm looking forward to the wedding night."

"That's … great," Derek replied. "Hey, why don't we grab some breakfast?" He walked to the canvas tennis shoes she'd

worn last night for her moonlight treasure hunt, and bent to pick up one. Janine grimaced. She'd left them tied so tight, the

material was puckered around the eyelets. Even so, she'd still been able to walk right out of them.

The mattress moved again. Steve sat on the edge of the bed for a few seconds, then pushed himself to his feet. "I didn't tell

you she's a virgin, did I?"

Janine gasped, and the shoe Derek had picked up fell back to the floor, bouncing once.

"No," Derek said in a brittle tone. "You didn't mention that little tidbit."

"Can you believe it? In this day and age… She's the perfect wife for a politician's family. No skeletons, no baggage."

"Politician, meaning your father, or politician, meaning you?" Derek still sounded a little choked.

"Of course Dad for now, although I don't rule it out for myself sometime in the future."

Another surprise, Janine noted wryly.

"How can you be sure she's a virgin?" Derek asked.

Janine gasped again, then tamped down her anger. After all, she'd acted like a loose goose—her mother's words—around

Derek.

"I mean," Derek added with a nervous little laugh, "nothing against Janine, but how's a man really to know?"

"She told me," Steve said simply.

Well, at least he'd believed her.

"And I asked her OB/GYN."

Her body clenched in fury. How
dare
he? Instinctively, she raised her head, which met solidly with a rather inflexible piece

of wood. Pain exploded in her crown, and she bit back a string of curses.

"What was that?" Steve asked.

Holding her breath, Janine could feel his eyes boring through the mattress.

"Oh, it's the people in the room below," Derek said, sounding exasperated. "They can't seem to be still."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Anyway," Steve said, shifting foot to foot, "I need to look for Janine before we eat. The wedding is back on for this evening.

Mother has already worked out the details with the hotel. A small miracle, I might add."

Janine swallowed a strangled cry. She needed a miracle, but that wasn't the one she'd had in mind.

"Kind of last minute, don't you think?" Derek asked, walking toward the door.

"My folks think it would make great press, so it'll be worth it, even if things aren't picture perfect. You have to ride the

media wave when it breaks, man."

The door opened and Steve exited first. Derek stepped into the hall, then said, "Oh, I almost forgot. I need to make one more

phone call. Why don't you wait for me in the lobby. Maybe you'll run into Janine."

"Good idea," Steve said. "Then the two of you can get to know each other a little better."

Janine closed her eyes, guilt clawing at her chest.

"Uh, yeah," Derek replied. "Give me about fifteen minutes." He walked back inside the room, then closed the door.

Dread enveloped her, a sensation that was beginning to feel alarmingly familiar. She inhaled too deeply, filling her nostrils

with dust, then sneezed violently. Before she could recover, strong hands closed around her ankles, and she was sliding across

the wooden floor, being pulled out feetfirst. When her head cleared the bed, she lay still, looking up at Derek who stood over

her, hands on hips. "Bless you," he said, but his expression was decidedly unsympathetic.

Inside he was seething, although he tried to maintain a certain amount of decorum. The crazy thing was that even in the midst

of the frenetic situation, his mind and body paused to register her incredible natural beauty, her pink mouth and blue, blue eyes,

her pale braided hair in fuzzy disarray, and long slender limbs, sprawled ridiculously on the floor. He had actually deflowered

this lovely creature, destined for the bed of another man. Derek wanted to throw something, but instead he winced and rubbed

his eyes with forefinger and thumb.

"You really shouldn't do that."

He opened his eyes. "You really should have told me."

She wet her lips. "Would it have made a difference?"

"Yes," he snapped. He wouldn't have touched her. He ran his hand through his hair, still unable to believe the turn of events.

Okay, maybe he still would have touched her, but he would have taken his time, would have tried to make the experience more

special for her, which was probably what her fiancé had been planning to do. Remorse racked his chest.

"Yes," he repeated more gently. He leaned over and extended his hand, then eased her to her feet.

"Derek, I can't imagine what you must think of m

e

—

"

He stopped her by touching his finger to her full lower lip. "I think we were both a little out of sorts—the proximity, the

quarantine, the stress. What happened, happened."

Misery swam in her eyes. "But Steve…"

"Doesn't ever have to know," Derek insisted.

"You're right," she said, nodding. "Telling him would serve no purpose, and I don't want to come between your friendship."

He considered telling her they weren't as close as she might think, but doing so would only confuse the issue. "Good, then we

have a pact?"

"Yes," she said with a whisper of a smile.

"And you and Steve will work things out?"

"I'm not sure that—"

"You will," he assured her, forcing cheer. He clasped her shoulders in what he'd intended to be a friendly gesture, but

dropped his hands when the compulsion to kiss her became too great. "You've got a few minutes to get your things together and

out of here," he said as he crossed to the door.

"Derek." She swallowed hard and looked as if she might say something, then averted her eyes and murmured, "I don't have

much to get together."

He couldn't resist teasing her one last time. "A certain pink number comes to mind."

She blushed, and he decided the picture of her standing barefoot next to the bed, with disheveled hair and wearing her T-

shirt inside out would remain in his mind forever.

"I guess I'll see you at the wedding," he said, then left before he could change his mind about walking away. He had

problems in Kentucky that needed his full attention immediately, he reminded himself as he rode to the lobby. The sooner he

got through the wedding and on a northbound plane, the better. Guilt bound his chest like a vise.

Steve was waiting for him in the lobby, jingling change in the pocket of his tailored slacks, looking every bit the part of a

successful plastic surgeon.

"I haven't seen her," Steve said as he walked up, clearly perturbed. "I gave her a pager so I could keep tabs on her, but she

never wears it."

Good for her, Derek thought. "Ready to get a bite to eat?"

"Let's hang around in the lobby for a little while, just in case a news camera shows." Steve craned his neck and scanned the

massive lobby.

Derek frowned. "Or Janine."

"Huh? Oh, yeah."

Rankled at his seeming indifference, Derek said, "If you don't mind me saying so, you don't seem particularly attached to

your fiancée."

Steve shrugged. "What's love got to do with it, right?"

With his attitude of taking things lightly, Derek marveled how the man had made it through medical school. Then the answer

hit him—Steve only took
people
lightly. "Well, it matters quite a bit when you consider you'll be spending the rest of your life

with someone."

His friend turned back and presented a dismissive wave. "If you're thinking about what I said about her not putting lead in my

pencil, don't worry. My surprise wedding gift to Janine is a pair of D's."

Derek frowned. "What?"

"You know—D's." Steve held his hands, palm up, wriggling his fingers in lewd squeezing motions.

Nausea rolled in Derek's stomach. What did Janine see in this guy? Hell, why did he himself call him a friend? He struggled

to keep his voice calm. "That's kind of cruel, Steve. And unnecessary, from what I saw of Janine."
And felt, and tasted,
his

conscience reminded him.

Steve scoffed. "You always did go for the mousy ones, didn't you, pal?"

So unexpected was Derek's fist that Steve was still smiling when he popped him in the mouth. Steve staggered back, his eyes

wide and angry. An expletive rolled out of his bloody mouth, but he kept his distance. "Have you lost your freaking mind?"

"No," Derek said evenly. "But you've lost your best man."

Steve's face twisted as he swept his gaze over Derek. "Fine. I only asked you because Jack let me down."

"You and Jack," Derek said, wiping the traces of blood off his knuckles, "are two of a kind."

"You're jealous," Derek retorted. "You were always jealous of me and Jack."

Derek set his jaw and turned his back on Steve, recognizing the need to walk away. A light from a news camera blinded him,

but he didn't stop. At least Steve had gotten his wish—he probably would make the local news.

Steve's spiteful words clung to Derek as he stabbed the elevator button. Jealous, ha. In his opinion, the man had only one

thing worth coveting. He stepped into the elevator and leaned heavily against the back wall. A man knew his limits. He'd never

competed with Steve or Jack for a woman, and he wasn't about to start now.

But at least he had his memories.

17

« ^ »

J
anine closed the room door behind her and slung over her shoulder the pillowcase containing her ill-fated costume, her high

heels and the items Manny had brought her. She'd managed a quick shower, but didn't have time to dry her hair, so she'd simply

slicked it back from her face with gel. The single pair of shorts and the sole T-shirt she had left were so formfitting, she'd