He wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek on top of her head. “If you have her cell number, why aren’t you ever able to talk to her?”
“That’s a cell phone that’s programmed with only my number in it. Lenny doesn’t know she has it. Since she’s always refused my help, it was the one concession I got so she had some way of reaching me in case of emergency or to just let me know when she moves to a new city. She doesn’t use it as often as I’d like, but it’s better than nothing. When she’s not using it, it’s turned off and hidden so Lenny doesn’t find it.”
A sad smile attempted to curve her mouth up but didn’t quite succeed. “Sometimes I call it just to leave her a voice mail about my day or to let her know I’m thinking of her and miss her.”
“I bet she likes that.”
“I don’t know,” she mused. “She’s never mentioned them.”
“Sounds like she’s stubborn and has a lot of pride. Kind of like someone else I know.”
That, along with the kiss he placed on her neck, brought a genuine smile to her face. For him to accomplish that in one of her darkest moments said a lot about his effect on her. And it didn’t even send her into a panic. Apparently miracles were possible.
Jackson got up from the couch and grabbed his phone, letting her know he planned to have the travel agent at the resort book their flights. As he did that, she grabbed a bottle of water from his fridge and settled on the couch, letting her head fall back between sips of the cool liquid.
“Yes, departing Honolulu and arriving in Nashville… The next flight out… One ticket for myself and the other for Miss MacGregor.”
Vanessa’s head snapped up. Miss MacGregor?
“No, they’re arriving tomorrow. Place them in their original bungalow and keep the other one for Miss MacGregor upon her return… Great. We’ll be there shortly to pick up our things and the itineraries. Mahalo.”
Jackson hung up and looked over at her. “Ready to go? The next flight leaves in a couple of hours.”
Something told Vanessa to not ask. To let it go. It was a minute detail in the grand scheme of things right now. But in her profession, she knew it was those seemingly irrelevant details that sometimes made the difference between guilty and not guilty.
“Jackson, why did the lady at the resort recognize my real name?”
Lowering his head to his chest, he scrubbed a hand over his head several times before meeting her gaze again. “That’s what I was trying to tell you before you got Kat’s text.”
“You told the resort my real identity?”
“Not exactly.” He leaned his hips back on the short kitchenette counter and gripped the edge with his hands like it was the only thing holding him upright. “More like the resort has known your real identity the whole time.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I was trying to explain earlier that from the first time we met, you knocked me on my ass. Intrigue and lust are a damn potent combination that I’d never experienced before. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met, and when you basically told me you had no desire to see me until the wedding…I said the first thing that came to mind that would ensure we had to spend a whole lot of time together.”
Vanessa’s insides began to vibrate, her body’s reaction to what her mind was processing. And still she didn’t want to believe it. “I didn’t have to check in as Lucie. Did I.” She left off the inflection at the end. It wasn’t a question if she already knew the answer.
“No,” he said. “You didn’t.”
“Which means you didn’t need to check in as Reid, or at all for that matter.”
“No. They were aware you would be standing in for Lucie for the week.”
“How deep does the lie go, Jackson? You fed me all that bullshit about the Mau Loa being such an exclusive resort with the high security and strict policies crap. But I’m sure there’s more,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “There always is.”
“The part about guests needing multiple IDs is true, and no one has been allowed to accept someone else’s reservation until you.”
She actually snorted at the very idea. “It’s one thing to lie, but don’t insult my intelligence, too, Maris. I know Reid’s a big shot in the world of MMA, but he’s no Donald Trump or Brad Pitt. An exclusive resort—which you’re adamant the Mau Loa is—doesn’t lift one of their strictest policies for someone like him.”
“You’re right,” he said, holding her eyes with a meaningful look. “Unless of course he happens to be friends with one of the owners.”
“Who’s the…” Her voice trailed off as it suddenly dawned on her. Vanessa squinted at him as if through a pair of X-ray glasses that allowed her to see him as he truly was for the first time.
No answer, other than a slight tic in his jaw, which was answer enough for her.