Saved by the Bride

chapter Two

Finn rubbed his throbbing shin and reminded himself to never underestimate someone who claimed to be uncoordinated. He grunted at the security guard. “Ring the police, Jerome.”

The usually stoic man looked confused. “Mr. Callahan, sirs, exactly which county sheriff covers this area?”

“Aren’t you supposed to know stuff like that?” Finn could feel an egg-size lump rising on his leg.

“In Chicago, sir, but this part of the country is all new to me.”

“We’re on the border of Lake and Bayfield so take your pick.”

Donna sighed, her smoky voice sounding tired. “Actually, it’s Lake County. The police chief’s number is 555-3228, although it’s Saturday night so he’ll probably be bowling. He never hears his cell over the noise so best to call 555-5196.”

His gaze stalled on her mouth and the way it formed the numbers so precisely, instantly recalling the wild and hot way it had played under his. He ran his hand through his hair, the curls frustratingly snagging at his fingers. Kissing her was supposed to have been a test to see how far she’d go in her quest to get what she wanted. Instead he’d been more turned on in three minutes than he’d been in three months. He closed his hand, pressing his fingers into his palm, desperate to shut out the feeling that had been tingling there since it had unexpectedly discovered a soft curve of breast nestling behind the embroidered bodice. A tingling that had made him reach for her zipper.

He hated that he’d responded like a randy teenager to her calculated plan to get a story. But that was over. He had her number and then some. “Don’t believe a word she says, Jerome.”

“No, sir.”

“She’s right about the county,” his father said quietly as he put his hand on the door handle. “The toasts are starting, Finnegan. Leave Jerome to handle this.”

And it was time to go play happy families—the evening just got better and better. “She’s wily, Jerome. Don’t let her near any windows and stay with her until she’s in the back of the squad car.”

“Yes, sir.”

He could barely look at her but he gave a curt nod. “I’d like to say it was a pleasure meeting you but we both know that’s a lie.”

Her chin shot up and those sparkling blue-on-blue eyes flashed. “Enjoy the rest of the party, Finn.”

Her words mocked him as he stepped out of the library.

* * *

Bridget Mary Callahan—Bridey to her family and close friends—was now officially engaged. She and Hank had been quietly engaged for three months but tonight was the public declaration. She stood barefoot with thick, soft grass tickling between her toes. The gentle and relaxing sound of the lake lapped behind her as she stared up at the house from the bottom of the garden. Fireflies zipped through the air, drawn to the tiny white bud lights that adorned the huge maple and beech trees. Torches surrounded the now-empty dance floor, casting delicious flickers of light and shade, and just beyond, on the terrace, she could make out the silhouette of Aphrodite—the slowly dripping ice sculpture that had graced the buffet table. The scene looked like a magical kingdom and the hours and hours of meticulous planning she’d put into it had all paid off. It was exactly how she’d imagined it. Picture-perfect.

A woman marched onto the terrace and into the picture. Bridey instantly recognized the walk—stiff, tightly wound and perfectly controlled. Mom. Then silver flashed in the night light and her father appeared, followed quickly by a woman younger than her mother who immediately slipped her arm through his as if staking her claim and declaring to all, “he’s mine.” Stepmom.

It didn’t take long before big brother joined the group, standing next to their mother and flanking her like a protective guard as he always did on the very few occasions the Callahan clan actually came together. The last time had been two years ago when she’d finished her master’s and had been accepted into the PhD program to study twentieth-century American literature. She held her breath, willing the picture to hold.

This night had been close to perfect but that had been when one hundred and fifty people had separated her family. Surely they could hold it together for just a tiny bit longer. She glimpsed a man stepping through the French doors, his height equal to that of her father and brother. The lights caught his hair, giving it a golden glow like the sun god, Apollo, and her heart fluttered in her chest. Hank. His usual stance—that of a man at ease in the world—held a tremor of uncertainty as he deliberated exactly where to stand. Wisely, he chose Switzerland and took his place between her parents.

She smiled, loving Hank with every fiber of her being. He was her soul mate. She’d been so busy planning their engagement party that she hadn’t seen much of him in the last few weeks so she couldn’t wait to wake up next to him tomorrow morning and start their vacation together. But right now it was time to rescue him. No one deserved to deal with her family en masse and unprotected. As Bridey picked up her shoes and commenced walking toward the group, her mother’s tense voice drifted across the garden. “Where’s Bridget? I need to say good-night before I leave.”

“You don’t have to stay in Whitetail, Kathleen.” Her stepmother, Dana, seemed to draw even closer to Sean. “You’re welcome to use the guest cottage.”

Oh, no, here we go. The scene—picture-perfect when empty—was suddenly shredding at the edges. Bridey knew that a smile-cum-grimace would be pulling the skin taut across her mother’s cheeks.

“That’s very gracious of you, Dana.” The tone said it was anything but.

“Kathleen.” Sean’s voice rolled out on a growl.

Daddy, no. Bridey knew the exact effect her father’s warning tone would have on her mother. Please don’t bring up the divorce settlement and remind Mom how she lost the cottage. She started to run.

“Sean, I didn’t design the cottage for the convenience of your other wives.”

“The invitation was well meant.” Dana’s tone conveyed resignation.

Sean patted his current wife’s hand.

Finn’s hand rested on the small of his mother’s back as if to spin her away. “I’ll drive you to Whitetail now, Mom. I have to go to the police department anyway.”

With his usual lightning-fast decisions, big brother had come to the rescue of his mother yet again, protecting her against their father even though she didn’t need it. Kathleen Callahan had been self-sufficient for years and intolerant of those who were not.

Bridey’s feet hit the terrace and she came into the circle of light, grabbing Hank’s hand. “What a wonderful party. I just know everyone had the best time.”

Her family turned toward her, mouths tightly closed and their silence speaking volumes.

Hank squeezed her hand but his smile was weary. “Mom and Dad are so sorry they missed the party.”

A lump formed in her throat, making it hard to swallow, and tears pricked the backs of her eyes, but she refused to cry. She would not cry. She’d wanted everything to be perfect, needed everything to be perfect, and her first attempt had fallen short. Hank’s parents hadn’t made it and her family looked like they were sucking on lemons.

She gave herself a tiny shake. She knew perfection took hard work and she’d never been one to walk away from that and she wasn’t about to start now. Life was a series of steps that needed to be taken in the correct order so that everything fell into place. For her, these steps started with a big engagement party and finished with a huge wedding. Her parents hadn’t taken all the steps and their marriage had ended in divorce.

No way was Bridey getting divorced. She was going to do everything right. However, the tiny fact that she’d been the one to propose to Hank had her stressing that they’d already started out wrong, breaking the proper order of things—which is why she now had an elaborate plan. A plan to right things in her world, to realign the universe and to appease all or any deities to ensure her future happiness with Hank. Nothing or no one was going to get in her way.

* * *

“I’m Finn Callahan and I’ve come down as requested to check the charge sheet against Donna whoever-she-is.” Resignation clung to his words because more than anything he wished he was home in his quiet cabin, free of women, free of family and in a place where he could forget the whole miserable night.

The police chief, looking as weary as most people do at one in the morning, rose to his feet and joined him on the other side of the counter. “Thanks for coming down, Mr. Callahan.”

“No problem. This is going to be quick, isn’t it?”

“I’m hoping so.”

“Hey, Rory, I got us some hot choc— Oh.”

What the hell? Finn spun around at the sound of a very familiar smoky voice.

Donna stood stock-still clutching two steaming mugs. Except for her voice, her French nails and a fading black eye, she was unrecognizable. Gone were the high heels and evening dress, and in their place she wore red canvas shoes ripped-at-the-knee jeans and a blue hoodie. Her face was now scrubbed clean of ruined makeup, making her eyes seem larger than ever, but the biggest surprise was her hair. What had seemed to be a mousy blah color when wet was now a startling white-blond with sun-kissed streaks of gold. Instead of being swept up in a French chignon, it was pulled back in a simple ponytail which made her look ridiculously innocent and wholesome instead of designer and predatory. Then he remembered her mouth—full of delicious sin—and how he’d lost total control.

Anger at himself, as well as her, surged back and he turned around, slapping the counter. “Why isn’t she in a cell?”

The police chief calmly stood his ground. “She was wet and cold so I sent her home for a hot shower before she caught a cold. She knew she had to come back.”

“She lives here?” He’d assumed she was a stringer from Chicago, plying her trade with the trashy publications of the big city.

“I’ll just go sit in the cell.” Donna put down one of the mugs and hot chocolate slopped over the side, creating a brown river that snaked its way toward the paperwork. “Oh, sorry.” She grabbed a wad of tissues out of her pocket as if they’d been there for the express purpose of cleaning up a self-induced mess.

“No, you need to stay here.” The policeman sipped his hot chocolate. “This is good, Anni.”

“It’s the marshmallows. I whipped them in.”

Finn shook his head trying to clear the stands of fatigue that were stealing his concentration. Anni? Her name was Donna. Nothing was matching up here except her clumsiness. “Excuse me for interrupting ‘top tips for making hot chocolate,’ but can we focus on why we’re here...” he read the chief’s name badge, “...Chief Gunderson. This woman broke into my father’s house.”

She wriggled her nose like a bunny rabbit and her shoulders squirmed. “Well, technically I did, but not really. I’m sorry for how it looks and I can explain everything.”

Cutesy didn’t cut it with him but worse than that she was doing that thing she did with her teeth. His gaze slid to her plump bottom lip and his mouth filled with the memory of its cushion softness and intoxicating taste. Part of him yearned to kiss her again. Yeah, right, like that’s really going to help. She’s a liar and an information thief.

He stared at her left shoulder and fought to find his emotionless but analytical thinking that he prided himself on. Did she think he was wet behind the ears? He and his father ran a business that employed thousands of people in and out of the country and he’d pretty much heard every excuse in the book. “It’s too late for sorry, Donna, and the only explaining you have to do is to a judge.”

She looked him straight in the eye. “Actually, I’m Annika. Annika Jacobson.”

He sighed. “I don’t care what the hell your name is. It makes no difference to the fact you broke the law.” He turned to the chief. “Does it?”

Rory reached for the now damp and chocolate-stained charge sheet. “Technically, no.”

Finn smiled. There was nothing like the facts to simplify things and clear them of the chaos of emotions. “There you go. You not only broke into the house with the intention of getting information to sell, you also used an alias and lied about why you wanted to meet my father.”

“I’m not a journalist and I didn’t lie about why I wanted to meet your father.” Her voice was unexpectedly firm.

He didn’t believe her. “If that’s the truth then you have a funny way of doing things.”

“Mr. Callahan, you’re quite correct.” Rory Gunderson’s expression was a combination of paternal concern and professional patience. “Technically she broke the law. However, I’m uncomfortable arresting Whitetail’s acting mayor over what I believe to be a misunderstanding.”

Finn stared at her in disbelief. Not now, or even when she’d been wearing wet evening wear, had she looked anything like a local official. “You’re the mayor?”

Her shoulders rose and fell in a self-deprecating shrug and a faint blush pinked her cheeks. “It’s a bit of a long story, but I’m standing in until the next elections.”

Heat licked at him, warming his blood. Again. The only explanation for this unwanted reaction was it had been way too long since he’d had sex. Hell, he could fix that. He vowed right there and then that first thing in the morning he was heading to Chicago and calling one of his many standby girlfriends who happily dropped everything to have dinner with him. Dinner and sex. Women who didn’t wear faded jeans that curved around their ass like a glove.

“Being mayor doesn’t absolve you from breaking and entering.”

Her chin tilted up and her eyes flashed, all contrition gone. “If AKP Industries had any manners, I would never have climbed through that window!”

Something about the way she said “manners” had him taking it personally. He prided himself on the way he conducted business. “My company.” He made a slight correction. “My family’s company is run on sound business principles and unlike some people, we don’t run around doing what we please under the guise of fairness.”

“Sound business principles?” Her voice rose with incredulity. “Does that mean leaving etiquette at the door? If one person from your company had responded to my myriad of letters, faxes, emails and phone calls about the business park, neither of us would be standing here tonight.”

Um, warehouses. A sound bite echoed in his head. She’d said she wanted to talk to Sean about warehouses. At the time he’d put it down to being part of her playacting scenario because it made no sense. It still didn’t. “What business park?”

“What business park?” She threw her arms out in disgust. “Oh, please, like there’s more than one in a town this size? This is exactly the sort of AKP crap I’m talking about.”

“Anni,” the police chief rebuked mildly. “Take a deep breath.”

“Sorry, Rory.” She threw him an apologetic smile before turning back to Finn, her lips pursed and her eyes hard. “You and your father owe this town one meeting about your plans for the empty warehouses that you own on the south side of the town.”

And right then his world steadied and he was back on known territory—the business. Numbers had always been far more reliable than people and he loved the company. He lived and breathed it, played and slept with it, and, just lately in this economic climate, worried about it way too much. He folded his arms across his chest, a man in complete control. “You’ve broken the law in vain then, Ms. Jacobson, because AKP Industries doesn’t own a business park in Whitetail.”

Long, fine fingers slapped her hips. “You’re wrong.”

He shook his head very slowly, secure in his position. “Unlike you, I’m never wrong.”

She hooked him with a gaze as clear as a northwoods stream—one that penetrated deeply and zeroed deep into a place he kept hidden. “Rory, show him the copy of the deed.”

Deed? The chief passed him papers that read “Title of the Whitetail Business Park,” and a yellow “sign here” note was attached with its red arrow pointing directly to a signature. He blinked twice as if the action would change what he saw but nothing could hide the very distinctive and recognizable scrawl of his father.

Shit. His stomach turned over. Annika was right. He didn’t know what he hated more—that she’d just exposed a hole in his knowledge of the company’s assets, the fact that AKP Industries now owned a business park in the sticks smack in the middle of the worst economic slowdown in the history of the industrialized world or that his father hadn’t told him. A cramp clawed through his chest making it hard to get his breath.

He felt like a fool. How did a whole freaking town know AKP owned a business park ahead of him? What the hell was the old man up to?

The cool indifference he usually held on to when he thought about or had to deal with his father melted under the onslaught of betrayal. He’d been working around the clock, filling in when his father failed to turn up to meetings and Sean was treating him like a mushroom—keeping him in the dark and feeding him manure. It had left him wide open, and he sure as hell didn’t appreciate being played or exposed as someone out of his depth and out of control. People were going to pay and payment started right now with someone who had blue eyes, red shoes and the most amazing mouth he was absolutely determined to forget.

* * *

When Annika had stood under the stream of hot water in her shower an hour earlier, she’d decided that the best thing for her to do would be to apologize to Finn Callahan and admit she was totally in the wrong over the way she’d gained entry to the lake house.

And she’d tried, but when his stormy, coal-black eyes had raked over her, followed up by his self-righteous, rich-man-I-own-the-world high horse, she’d snapped. Victory had been hers when he’d read the documents.

Right now though, with his black stubble darker than ever against cheeks that had paled under a tan, she experienced a slight twinge of remorse. Knowing she still had to secure this meeting for the town, she pitched for calm reasonableness. “Finn, it’s late. Let’s start over in the morning after we’ve all had a decent night’s sleep.”

Silently, he slowly and carefully folded the copy of the deed in half and in half again before sliding it into the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket. Every action was precise and deliberate, and she suddenly missed the man with the easy and wicked grin who’d pulled her through the window and laughed with her. A trickle of unease turned into a river, flowing insidiously down to every single cell. Perhaps she’d just made a tactical error in showing him the document. Powerful men—any man for that matter—didn’t take well to being proven wrong.

He pushed a recalcitrant jet curl off his forehead. “AKP Industries will be in contact.”

His voice was quiet and reasonable, and she wanted to feel relieved but she’d heard that phrase over and over from the lips of many without anything ever changing, and she no longer trusted it. Whipping out her phone she said, “As backup, I’ll take the contact number of the person in charge of the warehouses.”

“That won’t be necessary. We’ll be in contact. I give you my word.” His voice deepened as if his word was inexorably linked with his honor.

Be honorable yourself if you wish to associate with honorable people. The old proverb echoed in her head, ramping up her guilt about climbing through the window. Know when to hold and know when to fold. She reluctantly forced herself to slip her phone back into her pocket.

Rory smiled the quiet smile he always wore whenever he’d mediated and solved the problem, and unclipped the charge sheet. “So, Mr. Callahan, now you and Anni are finally on the same page and you’re taking the meeting, you’ll be dropping the charges?”

An ominous black cloud rolled off Finn as his eyes darkened to ebony and stayed fixed on her. “No, the charges stand.”

What? Forget guilt and remorse—fury unleashed itself off the back of betrayal. “You bastard, you gave me your word.”

“Oh, my word stands, Annika.” The chill in his voice formed icicles in the warm, summer air. “You on the other hand have to learn that business has a process, and that process has to be followed. Illegal entry, lying and enticement don’t even come close.”

“Enticement?” She struggled to think what on earth he was talking about and then with a breath-stealing jolt she remembered his question just before he kissed her. How far are you prepared to go to meet Sean? Her stomach rolled at the realization and a wave of self-loathing rocked through her, quickly reigniting her anger at him. “You kissed me because you thought I’d sleep with you to meet your father? God, what sort of people do you normally do business with? No, forget that. What sort of person are you?”

“Honorable. I do business with people who follow the rules.” His jaw jutted and his eyes flashed with unforgiving intent. “By being charged you get exactly what you want.”

Panic tangoed in her belly. “How do you figure that?”

“You get to talk to my father in court.”