Lara took a deep breath. She was about to become a wedding crasher.
Lara rushed up the stone steps as fast as her high-heeled red sandals would allow. After three months on the beat, she wasn't used to dressing up. She stopped before the carved wooden doors and mentally braced herself.
She could do this. She'd crashed the MacPherson wedding with no one realizing it. Of course, that had been a huge affair. The Ferguson wedding had been scarier. With only fifty people in attendance, she'd been painfully aware of the curious looks cast her way. She'd slipped away as soon as possible, leaving behind one of the three wedding presents she'd purchased that afternoon.
She adjusted the bodice on her red cocktail dress. Maybe she shouldn't have worn red. Or this low neckline. It was bound to draw attention. But this was a late wedding, starting at nine p.m., so she assumed it would be more formal that the afternoon weddings she'd attended. The red dress was the fanciest one she owned. The only fancy dress she owned. After leaving home, she'd sworn never ever to wear a full-length formal gown again.
Too bad she had to lug this canvas tote bag with her. Her uniform and weapon were inside, since she'd have to leave soon for work. Her shift started at ten, but she'd make it on time. It would only take a few minutes to see if Jack was here. She believed he was real, but she'd feel a lot better if she could verify that in person. And she wanted to know how he had managed to erase his tracks at the hotel. He was an intriguing mystery, with his ability to control minds. So naturally, as a wannabe detective, she just had to investigate him. The fact that he was also gorgeous and incredibly sexy didn't factor into it.
Yeah, right. She shouldn't lie to herself in church.
She pulled open the heavy wooden door and slipped inside the vestibule. Rows of red glass votives flickered, casting a warm glow against the stone walls. Her stiletto heels wobbled on the uneven pavement as she moved quietly toward the nave. Two saintly statues flanked the entrance, frowning at her for sneaking in uninvited.
Those who were invited seemed like a happy bunch. She remained half hidden behind the door, watching them as they laughed and talked. The ends of the pews were decorated with white ribbons and lilies. Another floral arrangement rested on the altar. She scanned the small crowd, looking for Jack. She didn't see him, but she did spot the guy who'd been sprawled on the floor covered with blood just the night before. How strange. He was perfectly fine now.
"May I help you?"
She jumped and turned toward the man who'd spoken behind her. A big redheaded Scotsman. "Hi there."
" 'Twill begin soon. May I escort you to yer seat?"
"Sure." She figured he must be one of the ushers. This was definitely a Scottish wedding. The guy was wearing a black-and-white-plaid kilt, white lacy shirt, and black jacket. A single red rosebud was pinned to his lapel, and his long hair was pulled back with a thin black ribbon.
He regarded her curiously with his light green eyes. "Ye're a friend of the bride?"
Lara's mind went blank as she desperately tried to remember the name of the bride. Cheryl? No, that had been the MacPherson wedding. Dammit. She'd paid more attention to the names of the grooms. And this groom had seemed familiar somehow. "I'm a friend of Ian MacPhie."
The Scotsman's eyebrows lifted. "Ye know Ian?"
"Sure. We go way back. I... used to date his cousin."
"I see."
Shoot, this wasn't working. She'd have to distract this guy. She brushed her long hair behind her shoulder to show off some cle**age and gave him the dazzling smile her mom had spent a small fortune on. "I don't believe we've met. I'm... Susie."
"Delighted to make yer acquaintance. I'm Robby MacKay." He took her hand. "Since ye're a friend of Ian's, he'll want to see you right away."
"Oh, that's not necessary." She tried to remove her hand, but Robby's grip tightened. "Surely it can wait till after the ceremony."
"Come with me." He pulled her across the vestibule.
Oh, shit. "Isn't the wedding about to start? We need to take our seats."
He opened a door and gently pushed her inside a dark room. "Wait here." He flipped on a light and as she quickly looked about, he grabbed her canvas tote bag.
"No!" Dammit, her weapon was in there. "I need that."
"Ye'll get it back." He started to shut the door.
"Wait! Is Jack here?"
Robby paused. "Jack?"
"Yes. Giacomo. His English-speaking friends call him Jack. I need to talk to him."
Without bothering to answer, Robby shut the door in her face. An ominous click sounded like a key turning a lock.
Dammit! Lara looked about the dimly lit room. A storeroom, she guessed. A row of high-backed, carved wooden chairs rested against the wall to her left. A bookcase filled with dusty old hymnals lined the wall to the right. The wall across from her was bare. No other door. Just as well. She couldn't leave without her uniform and weapon.
Damn, damn, damn! She paced across the small room. How could she have been so stupid? That Scotsman had moved incredibly fast. He'd wrenched the bag away before she'd known what was happening. But she had suspected he was onto her. She should have done something. But what? Drawn her weapon in a church at a wedding she was crashing?
She tried the door and sure enough, it was locked. How long would they keep her in here? What if she was late to work? What if she couldn't get her uniform and sidearm back? What a lousy cop she was turning out to be.
On the other hand, if Jack was here, then she was a damned good cop for managing to find him.
Male voices murmured on the other side of the door. She took a few steps back and drew in a deep, steadying breath.
Click. The door swung open to reveal Robby and... Jack.
Her breath caught. Good God, he was even more handsome than she'd remembered. His elegant gray suit looked tailor-made. His golden brown eyes widened as he looked her over.
"Ye know this woman?" Robby asked.
"Si." Jack never took his eyes off her.
"Lucky bastard." Robby shoved her tote bag into Jack's arms and strode away.
Jack continued to give her that look, the one she could only describe as hungry. A chill crept up her bare arms. Oh yeah. It was more than intellectual curiosity that had driven her to hunt him down.
"Bellissima." Jack shook his head. "Mi displace, I-I forgot all my English for a moment. You look so... bella. You would make the Mona Lisa cry with envy."
Her heart stuttered in her chest. Get a grip. You're here to question this guy. "Hello, Jack."
"I thought I would never see you again."
She lifted her chin. "I told you it wasn't over."
He walked into the room and shut the door. "Then you wish to start something with me?"
CHAPTER 3
Lara ignored the flutters in her stomach and the tingling sensation on her skin. She was not about to let this man know how flustered she was. "I'm here on business, Jack. This is an investigation."
He smiled slowly. "I'm flattered. I didn't realize I warranted so much personal attention."
The cad was trying to flirt with her, but she would remain professional. "You can answer my questions here or down at the precinct."
"I don't want to miss my friend's wedding."
"Then talk to me now. I want to know how you did it."
"Did what?" He ambled over to one of the high-backed chairs and set her tote bag on the red cushioned seat.
"You know what. I went back to the Plaza this morning, and the room was spotless."
"I told you I would clean it." He peeked in her bag, then glanced at her. "I'm a man of my word."
"If you're honest, then you'll tell me how you did it."
"I cannot take full credit. I was helped by some very efficient maids." He removed a gift-wrapped box from the tote bag. "You brought a wedding present. How thoughtful of you. Especially when you don't know the bride or groom."
Her face grew warm. "It was the least I could do. Now back to the matter at hand. When I questioned the hotel staff this morning, none of them could remember you."
He shrugged. "I suppose I am a forgettable sort of guy."
"On what planet?" she muttered, then blushed when he gave her a sexy grin.
He shook the wedding present. "What's inside, Officer? Some handcuffs?"
"Very funny." And the rascal kept changing the subject. "I'll answer your question, but then you have to answer mine. I gave them some silver-plated salad tongs."