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“What do you mean, no way?” Candy was back to her normal self. Her hands were planted against her hips and her eyes tossed fire at him a flame thrower couldn’t reproduce.
“I’m not the marrying kind.” He wouldn’t give in on this one, so she’d best get used to the idea right now.
“And I’m not the type to sleep around.”
The suggestion angered him beyond reason. “I only want you to sleep with me. You’ve already done it once, so what’s the big deal?”
“You better get something into that thick skull of yours, Carl Saks.” She held up her bare left hand. “I am not going to bed with you again until there’s a ring around my finger.”
He laughed, and not because she was being particularly funny. The woman was a loony tune if she thought she could trick him into marrying her.
He headed for the door. “You might have spelled that out earlier and saved us both a lot of trouble.”
* * *
Because she had no way of contacting Zane, Lesley was forced to wait until the morning of the wedding. After a sleepless night, she arrived at his home before eight.
From the smells drifting out from the kitchen, it was obvious that Mrs. Applegate had been cooking since the wee hours of the morning. Zane’s housekeeper had insisted upon supplying everything for the reception herself, including the wedding cake.
“You aren’t due here for hours yet,” Mrs. Applegate chided, wearing a wide, happy grin.
“I need to see Zane.”
The housekeeper’s eyes widened with shock. “You can’t do that. Don’t you know it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride on the wedding day? One shouldn’t take this sort of timeless advice lightly.”
“Mrs. Applegate, please, it’s important.”
The older woman was clearly perplexed. “He isn’t here,” she announced stiffly in what Lesley was convinced was a lie.
“Then I’ll find him myself.”
“You can’t, dearie, you just can’t,” Mrs. Applegate insisted, blocking the doorway.
Lesley hadn’t thought she’d have trouble getting past the housekeeper. If the situation wasn’t so ludicrous, she’d laugh.
With little effort, she was able to sidestep the older woman. No sooner had she stepped into the entry hall than Zane appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Lesley.” He sounded pleased to see her.
“I tried to stop her,” Mrs. Applegate called up to him. “You and I both know it’s bad luck to talk to the bride before the wedding.”
“Lesley, what’s wrong?” His eyes delved into hers as he ignored his housekeeper.
“I…I need to talk to you.” The sooner she told him of her decision, the sooner they could contact the guests.
“Come into the library.” He then directed his attention to Mrs. Applegate. “Could you bring us coffee? It looks like we could both use a cup.”
“Of course.” The housekeeper returned to the kitchen, looking none-too-pleased with either one.
Lesley walked over to the fireplace and placed her hand against the mantel. Her heart was racing. “You didn’t tell me,” she said.
“Didn’t tell you what?”
“That you were a mercenary.”
Her words were met with silence. “We both have our secrets.”
“That’s not true,” she cried.
