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Authors: Diana Palmer

BOOK: Hoodwinked
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She glared at his back. He might have noticed that she was sexy and beautiful, she told herself. Jake thought so. Then she thought of Jake as he'd been the day before and blushed with her memories. Even if she died right now, it would be worth it. She felt whole for the first time in her life.

She wondered if Jake felt the same way. He must, because he wanted to marry her and have children with her. Her mind clouded with delightful daydreams. They could live in his apartment and commute to work together. They could go to movies and he could watch her work in the garden patch. On the weekends they could go for long drives and watch movies and play with Bagwell. And when the children came along, Jake would be such a wonderful father. He'd been alone for a long time, and she thought that his parents had probably not wanted him. He was bitter about some of his childhood. She couldn't blame him. At the one time in his life when he'd needed his family, they'd turned their backs on him. She couldn't imagine her own parents doing that. No matter what she'd done, they'd have forgiven her and loved her all the same. She was sorry that Jake
wouldn't get to meet them. They'd have liked him. And vice versa.

She knocked on the door of MacFaber's office, to hear Charlene call, “Come in!”

She walked in, looking sheepish at Charlene's raised eyebrows. “I'm supposed to meet him here,” she whispered, glancing at the closed door to Charlene's boss's office.

“Him?”

“My fiancé,” she reminded the other girl. “He said to meet him in Mr. MacFaber's office after the test flight.”

“Oh.” Charlene still looked puzzled. “Are you sure?”

Maureen moved closer to the desk, feeling nervous. “Is the detective with him?” she asked hesitantly.

Charlene grinned. “Yes. At least he was when I left. I had to run out for a minute. So that's your big secret. The detective, huh?”

“He was a very good spy,” Maureen assured her, her eyes twinkling behind the lenses of her glasses. “And a wonderful person. You can come to the wedding. It's going to be on Monday. And we're going to have a big family and live happily ever after!”

“Sounds like a fairy tale,” Charlene said, smiling. “I know just how you feel,” she added. “It was that way for me the first few days I was engaged. I never thought it would happen. Just a second.”

She touched the intercom button. “Mr. MacFaber? There's a young woman here to see the detective. She said he told her to meet him here.”

“Send her in.”

The voice was deep and muffled. Maureen took a deep breath and crossed her fingers as she glanced at Charlene.

“He doesn't bite,” Charlene promised her. She smiled reassuringly. “You'll like him. Now go in there and get your man. Courage, girl!”

“I don't have much of that, but I'll try. Wish me luck.”

“Of course I do.”

Maureen reached out for the doorknob and slowly turned it, walking hesitantly into the big, plush office of Joseph MacFaber. It was like entering another world. Everything inside spoke of wealth and position. From the polished oak desk and deep leather chairs to the thick pile carpet and the beige-and-brown color scheme that had a decorator's touch.

On the desk were art objects from around the world and a neat stack of papers. Behind it was a huge leather desk chair, facing the broad windows that overlooked the test field. She couldn't see the man sitting in it.

“I, uh, I'm sorry, but I was told to meet Jake Edwards here, Mr. MacFaber,” she said slowly, using the respectful tone she automatically assumed for company officials. “I hope you don't mind. Charlene said that he was in here?” She looked around nervously, but she didn't see the other man. “I think you probably know him by another name. He's your detective, I believe?”

It was harder than he'd realized. He stared out the window, hearing her tone change, her nervousness increase. She didn't even sound like the woman he knew. It was as if his position had lifted him out of
her reach, made him inaccessible. He grimaced at the difference in her tone, her manner.

“Mr. MacFaber?” she asked again, more nervous than ever, because he wouldn't acknowledge her presence.

“Yes,” came a weary, familiar voice from the chair. “I'm MacFaber.”

And he whirled the chair around.

Chapter Eight

M
aureen felt the blood drain from her face. She must be dreaming, she decided. The man in the big chair looked like Jake Edwards, but he was wearing a very expensive blue pinstriped suit and a white silk shirt with a silk floral tie. He looked full of authority and bristling with money.

“I thought it might come as a shock,” he acknowledged quietly, and he didn't smile. “But we can deal with it.”

“Deal…with it?”

He took a cigarette from a metal case and lit it with a gold lighter. “Sit down.”

She did, because her legs were threatening rebellion. Her heart shook her with its beat. Her eyes were wide, shocked, wounded.

“You can't be him,” she whispered.

“Why not?” He shrugged. “Somebody was trying to sabotage my damned airplane. I thought at first you might know something about it, so I staked you out and pursued you.” He took a draw from the cigarette. “But it soon became apparent that you weren't the type to get involved in something that dishonest.”

“Then why did you keep seeing me?” she asked. Her world was falling apart and she wanted to
scream. She'd given herself to a man who had women like chocolate candies, and her dreams for the future were in ashes. This man wouldn't want a woman like her in a million years. He'd choose a wealthy woman with social position, someone who could function in his world. He wouldn't want a plain nobody of a secretary, even if she had gone crazy and slept with him. And why would he worry about precautions, either, when he could afford a dozen abortions—not that she'd have one.

“You grew on me,” he said quietly. “I enjoyed being around you. You gave me lessons in honesty and pride and compassion. I don't think anyone else in my life ever accepted me for what I was instead of what I had, until you did.”

“I didn't know who you were,” she said with a shaky smile. “You might have told me.”

“I wanted to. I couldn't take the risk. You might have let something slip to Blake before I could close in on his in-law.”

She lifted her chin. “You didn't trust me.”

“Baby, I don't trust anybody, as a rule,” he said with a twist of his lips. “Reform school would do that to most thirteen-year-old boys. You came in on my blind side.”

She closed her eyes to shut out the pain. “I hope I was worth the time you invested in me, Mr. MacFaber.”

“I'm not Mr. MacFaber.”

“You aren't Jake Edwards, either!”

“My name is Joseph,” he said. “Jake is a nickname the one friend I have in the world uses. Edwards was my mother's maiden name.”

She couldn't cry. She didn't dare cry.

He got up from the chair and came around the desk to perch himself on its very edge and watch her, the smoking cigarette in his hand. “As for being worth my time,” he said in a voice like cold steel, “that sounds cheap and I don't like it. I never used you, or meant to. I still have every intention of marrying you.”

Her lips fell open as she looked up at him. “You can't possibly be serious,” she whispered. “My gosh, you're…”

“I'm a man,” he said quietly, his dark eyes holding hers. “I'm alone and I don't like it. You're alone yourself. Why shouldn't we marry?”

“Because you don't love me!”

“Don't I?” he mused. “Can you think of another reason why I'd seduce a virgin?”

She colored and averted her eyes. “That was a mistake,” she said huskily. “I know your conscience is probably bothering you, but I don't blame you. And if there's…I mean, if…”

“If you become pregnant?” He let out a cloud of smoke, his broad dark face growing harder by the minute. “What did you have in mind doing?”

She swallowed and closed her eyes. “I don't know. But you don't have to marry me just because I might be pregnant.”

“I seem to remember doing my best to make you that way. Several times,” he murmured dryly.

She jumped to her feet, only to be caught by the wrist and jerked against him.

“I'll get the license this afternoon and make an appointment with my personal physician for the blood tests in the morning,” he said curtly. “Monday, you and I are getting married. Period.”

“You can't order me around—!”

He cut her off with his mouth, drowning her in ardor, making her moan with the tempestuous fury of his kiss. “Do you remember what we did at the last?” he whispered into her mouth and captured the tiny cry that accompanied her trembling.

When he let her go, she couldn't stand without his support. She leaned against him, shivering. He wanted her. She knew that. But she didn't think he was really capable of love. He wasn't a vulnerable man, and nothing left a person more helpless than loving someone.

“We shouldn't…get married.”

“Yes, we should,” he said gently. “And every night, I'll love you to sleep. In a few months, you'll give me a child.”

She looked up into his dark, quiet eyes curiously. “Do you really want a child so much?”

“I need one,” he said.

“Why?”

“Plenty of time for that after we're married.” He let her go with a smile. “Go and buy a wedding dress. I'll reimburse you for it, so don't skimp.”

“It's so quick,” she said vaguely.

“Most good things happen like lightning striking. Are you hungry? We'll go out for lunch, then I've got a full schedule this afternoon. We'll have to see about rings, too.”

She was breathless from his commanding attitude. “You were never this busy—”

“I was having a much-needed vacation from business. Now I'm back, and it's not going to slip through my hands again. These damned yes-men
aren't going to sink my company,” he said with a steely glare.

He didn't even sound like Jake anymore. He sounded cold and ruthless and all business. He made her shiver.

“Let's go.” He put out his cigarette and took her arm, half leading, half dragging her to the outer office.

Charlene looked up, her eyebrows arching at the sight of a pale Maureen in MacFaber's grasp.

“We're going out for lunch,” he told Charlene. “Get Minnow on the phone and tell him I want him in my office at one sharp. Call Dr. Samson and tell him I'll be in his office at ten tomorrow morning for blood tests for Maureen and myself. Call the courthouse and find out what I have to do to get a marriage license.” He stopped to let Charlene catch up. She was flustered and breathless and her eyes kept going helplessly to Maureen. “You can come with us Monday morning. We'll need a witness, so get a girl from the typing pool to fill in for you. Got all that?”

“Yes, Mr. MacFaber,” Charlene said smartly, because his eyes had dared her to miss a syllable.

“I'll be back at five before one.”

He propelled Maureen out of the office, out of the building, and into a smoke-gray Rolls-Royce waiting with its own uniformed chauffeur.

“Cobb's Grill, Harry,” he told the chauffeur and closed the curtain between them and the driver as the car pulled away from the curb. “Now,” he said hungrily and turned to Maureen.

By the time they reached the grill, her lipstick was gone and her body was racked with shudders of aching need despite the fulfillment he'd given her the
night before. She clung to him, but he put her gently away with a rueful smile, looking totally unruffled.

“Fix your makeup, baby,” he murmured, smiling at her abandoned look. “We wouldn't want to shock the other diners, would we?”

“You're…just incredible,” she said unsteadily as she tried to repair the damage he'd done in the lighted makeup mirror. “You aren't even ashamed of tricking me, deceiving me…”

“You don't give a damn about all that,” he murmured, watching her lazily. “You love me too much to care what I've done. And you'll marry me for the same reason.”

“Pure conceit,” she began.

He touched her mouth with his forefinger. “Do you think so? Suppose I pull you down in this seat and have Harry go for a long walk?” he taunted.

“You wouldn't dare! Not in front of a restaurant!”

“We have curtains,” he remarked, indicating them. His dark eyes narrowed playfully. “Of course, you'd have to bite your tongue and hold back those exciting little noises you make when I take you.”

Her face flamed. “Jake!”

He laughed. “No, I wouldn't do that to you. Not here. But you do rise so beautifully to the bait, little one.” He leaned forward and kissed her nose. “Now stop worrying. We've already got more going for us than most engaged couples. Let's have champagne and toast our future.”

“Are we really going to have one?” she asked sadly. “I'm all wrong for a man like you.”

“Bull. Come on.”

Harry opened the door and Jake helped her out onto the sidewalk. When he escorted her into the restaurant, she felt every eye on her. Probably half these people knew MacFaber and were wondering what in the world he was doing with this plain, ordinary woman. Most of the women were wearing designer dresses and suits, and dripping diamonds. She didn't need to be told that in a restaurant like this, you didn't ask for prices before you ordered.

They were seated at a good table, where MacFaber proceeded to order for her with a nonchalance that dared her to protest. She felt as if he'd already taken her over, lock, stock and barrel, and she was going to be little more than a possession for the rest of her life.

When she'd dreamed of marrying him, this hadn't been part of the dream. She'd built her dreams around a man who worked at an ordinary job, liked the same things she did, and wanted a normal life. But she wouldn't be marrying Jake Edwards. She was marrying a rich corporate executive who was used to slinging out orders and cutting off professional heads. How in the world was she going to survive it?

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