The Kidnapped Bride. Metsy Hingle
could see her face—the face that had haunted him while he’d trekked through the jungles of Colombia, when he’d crossed the mountains of Peru, as he’d searched the floor of the Atlantic. A part of her had always stayed with him...kept him on course. He’d known that someday after he’d made his big strike, he would find her again and make things right. Only the years had somehow managed to slip by without him ever making that big strike. Then he’d walked into that bookstore and seen her again. He realized at once that she was not only still the love of his life, but she was his lady luck. With Lorelei beside him, he would find the treasure. Fate had brought her to him again, and he had never been one to question fate.
He looked into those whiskey-colored eyes, the siren’s eyes he’d remembered filled with laughter, filled with love. But there was no laughter in those eyes now. There was no love. There was anger. And hurt. And he was the cause. Guilt washed over him, and for a moment he contemplated doing as she asked—taking her back to the church. No. He dismissed the notion. He couldn’t let her marry another man.
He’d make it up to her, Jack promised himself. All he needed was a chance—the chance he’d stolen for himself today. “I came, Lorelei.”
He saw the doubt, the questions as she narrowed her eyes and searched his face. “It’s true,” he insisted. “I came the next afternoon. I was late. I’d been offered a chance to go out on a dive. There was this ship, part of a fleet of Spanish—”
She yanked away from his touch. “You jerk! You stupid, insensitive jerk! I lied to my parents and my sisters for you. I hurt them, telling them I didn’t want to spend my spring vacation with them because I wanted to be with my friends. I hurt them deliberately so we could elope the way we’d planned. And now you tell me the reason I hurt them, the reason you left me waiting in that godforsaken little justice of the peace’s office, was so that you could play treasure hunter?”
“I wasn’t playing, Lorelei. I was on a diving boat. There was no way to get to a phone and call you.”
“You didn’t need a phone. You were supposed to be there!”
“I’m telling you I was there. But I was late. Sweetheart, I knew you were worried about the future, about how we would live.”
“Do you blame me? Treasure hunting isn’t exactly the most reliable profession.”
He managed not to wince at the verbal cuff. “I wanted to surprise you with a stake,” he said tightly, his own temper beginning to shred—partly out of anger, partly because he knew she was right. He’d had nothing to offer her ten years ago. He had little more now—except for the map and his gut feeling that he could find the mine. And that the mine would be the key to their future. “I earned nearly a thousand bucks on that dive. And I—”
“You nearly destroyed my life. I loved you, Jack. I loved you and trusted you. But all you cared about was finding some blasted treasure.”
Her words carried the sting of a slap and took the edge off his temper. “Lorelei, that’s not true. I—”
“I’ve had enough of this trip down memory lane with you. I’m not interested in discussing it further,” she said, her voice cool, her eyes even cooler. “I want you to take me back to the church so I can marry Herbert.”
Jack recalled the sight of her standing in the back of the church, a vision dressed in white and looking so damn beautiful she’d stolen his breath away.
And she’d been about to marry another man.
He gritted his teeth. Shoving the truck into gear, he pulled out onto the road and stole a glimpse in his rearview mirror. The sprawl of the city dissolved behind them as he veered the Explorer east to the Highway 60 Loop and headed toward the Apache Trail and the Superstition Mountains.
“Jack, I said to turn around. Now. I want you to take me back to the church. I’m going to marry Herbert.”
“Not if I can help it, you’re not.”
Two
“Jack. this is crazy. You can’t just kidnap me from my wedding!”
“Sweetheart, I just did.”
“Well, you certainly won’t get away with it. As soon as Herbert finds out what’s happened, he’s going to come after me,” Lorelei advised him, wishing she were half as sure of that as she sounded. Knowing Herbert, he’d probably be too busy calming his mother to worry about coming after her for quite some time.
“I wouldn’t count on that if I were you. Somehow good old Herbert didn’t strike me as the type of guy who’s given to emotional reactions. If he were, he’d have decked me the minute he walked through the door of that bookstore and found me kissing you.”
Lorelei flushed at the memory of looking up from the stack of books she’d been putting on a display and seeing Jack again. Her heart had seemed to stop working right then and there- In the years since he had jilted her, she’d seen him countless times in her dreams wearing that reckless smile, with that adventurous gleam in his blue eyes. Jack in the flesh was far more arresting than any dream had ever been. His smile was just as wicked and daring as she remembered ; his eyes were just as blue. But there was a danger and a hardness in those eyes now that hadn’t been there ten years ago. The body at twenty-three that she had found so sexy when they’d strolled hand in hand along the Florida beaches was even sexier now at thirty-three. The muscles were more defined, the deep bronze of his skin more weathered. The handsome boy she had fallen in love with had grown into a dangerously attractive man. Before she could stop herself, she’d said his name aloud.
In the blink of an eye, he’d been across the shop and had her in his arms. She hadn’t been able to think or utter a reply of protest before his mouth was covering hers. The unexpected kiss had shattered her, so much so that she hadn’t even heard the chime on the shop’s door announcing someone’s entrance. She hadn’t heard anything at all until the sound of Herbert’s shocked “Lorelei” had finally penetrated her senses. Of course, Herbert had immediately accepted her explanation that she and Jack were old friends. And instead of breaking Jack in two, he had shaken his hand.
“Besides, even if good old Herbert were to decide you needed rescuing,” Jack continued, cutting into her thoughts, “my guess is that Desiree’s story will put him off the notion.”
Lorelei narrowed her eyes. “What story?”
“The one Desiree’s probably telling him and your parents right about now.”
“And just what exactly is it she’s telling them?”
“That you and I were desperately in love ten years ago, but we were forced to separate when your parents moved away with you and your sisters.”
“That is not the reason we split up, and you know it.”
Ignoring her statement, he continued, “And when we ran into each other a few weeks ago, we both realized we still had feelings for one another and you began having second thoughts about marrying Herbert.”
“I have not been having second thoughts about marrying Herbert,” Lorelei insisted.
He cut her a glance. “Haven’t you?”
“No. And Herbert will never believe that story. Neither will my parents. No one will.”
“Not even when Desiree explains that you and I were engaged? That we had planned to elope until fate stepped in and kept us from carrying out our plans?”
“Fate had nothing to do with it,” Lorelei argued. “And no one ever knew about our plans to elope. I never said a word about it to anyone—not even to my sisters.”
“They know about it now,” Jack replied. “I told Desiree the whole story a few days ago when I asked for her help. She was very sympathetic, I might add. Why do you think she agreed to help me?”
“Because Desiree’s a soft touch and far too gullible for