Don’t Call Me Sweetheart Page 8

  She held her hand out for the keys. Snatching them from Christian, she whirled and ran into the house, leaving him to stare after her. As the front door slammed forcefully behind her he felt his anger ebb slowly away and a smile spread across his face despite the fact he was a long way from his hotel. The cab fee to get back was going to set him back more than a little. Damned if the author’s fiery assistant wasn’t something though!

  Chapter Six

  “What do you mean she’s not here?” Christian demanded angrily as he stormed past a startled Elizabeth and into Lane McLaughlin’s home. He was getting tired of the excuses offered for Whitney’s week-long absence following their quarrel. Hell, he reminded himself harshly. They hadn’t quarreled, they’d declared war. And since then, he’d been handed a steady stream of feeble explanations why he couldn’t see her.

  Lane McLaughlin had decided she needed a sabbatical after completing her novel, so it seemed she’d given Whitney a vacation as well. The housekeeper claimed to have no clue where Whitney had gone but Christian put little stock in her story. Oh, he’d been told he was welcome to contact Tess, or Lane McLaughlin, if he wanted information regarding Whitney’s whereabouts. But Lane McLaughlin was just as inaccessible as her secretary and Tess wasn’t talking.

  He had tried repeatedly to contact Whitney since that disastrous evening when he had lost control of himself, hoping that she would find it in her heart to accept his apology. If he could find the right words to make her understand why he had acted so despicably, he might be able to repair some of the damage he had caused.

  When leaving message after message failed to produce results he turned to Tess. But she insisted she didn’t know where Whitney had gone either and now after six straight days of stonewalling Christian wasn’t in the mood for more. Tess was keeping him supplied with steady work but the strenuous schedule couldn’t erase his guilt. He had hurt Whitney so badly she had felt the need to leave town. And it was tearing him up inside.

  He wanted to put the memory of her out of his mind, to get on with his objective but he couldn’t. Thoughts of Whitney, soft and willing in his arms the way she had been the morning of the photo session filled the long, lonely nights spent in the extra bedroom Tess was letting him use. The touch of her lips filtered through his dreams and more often than not he woke to find he had been calling her name out loud. Her sweet face haunted him, her large green eyes filled with a pain that he alone was responsible for. The image plagued him night and day and he knew he wouldn’t rest until he found her.

  Moving quickly, Christian made his way through an antique-laden living room, a dining room, then down a long hallway, shouting for Whitney each step of the way. The flustered housekeeper huffed and puffed her way behind him, declaring between gasps that Miss Whitney was not at home, a fact that Christian stubbornly refused to believe this time.

  Turning abruptly at the end of the hall, he snapped in frustration at the flustered woman, “Find someone who knows where she is then, because I’m not leaving this house until I find her.”

  He continued to open doors, poking his head purposefully into room after room. He noted with silent appreciation the lovely antique furnishings and the soft ambiance they created, reminiscent of a bygone era when life was so much simpler. For a moment he was back at Mountain Meadow Inn where over the years his mother had painstakingly furnished her home in much the same manner, filling the rooms with items designed to bring to mind a gentler life. At that moment his wounded soul wanted nothing more than to go home. But first he had unfinished business to see to.

  Christian opened the last door in a short upstairs hallway and instinctively discerned that this was where Whitney slept. Something had drawn him to this place, an unnamed force beyond his ability to comprehend, or understand. As though he was looking through a window in time he pictured Whitney moving about the room, her presence filling the room with a profound sense of… What? Beauty, of course. Love, perhaps. Romance… Yes, that was what the room spoke to him of. And Christian knew that here, among these beautiful surroundings, was where Whitney belonged and for some reason it pleased him greatly.

  He crossed to the massive bed dominating the center of the room and slowly ran his hand across the snowy lace coverlet. It felt cold to the touch, much like the expression in his searching eyes as they settled on the vanity mirror. Stepping in front of the glass Christian stared hard at his reflection, wondering if Whitney saw in him the same flaws he did. Before him stood a man filled with self-loathing for the manner in which he had treated an innocent woman, a woman who had trusted him enough to accompany him for an evening on the town. A woman who had trusted him to behave as a gentleman should. A woman who now had every reason to hate him.

  He wouldn’t blame her if she did. Whitney had been right when she had said he had no right to kiss her like he had. Christian’s eyes turned to granite as they bored into his reflection’s. He was paying a high price for his rashness this time. He prayed Whitney wasn’t as well.

  He conceded he wasn’t going to accomplish anything further there today and turned to go. He would talk to Tess one more time. He’d wring her pretty little neck if he had to, whatever it took to find out where Whitney had gone.

  With a last backward glance into the mirror Christian vowed that someday he would see Whitney again. There was nowhere she could hide that he wouldn’t find her. He’d make her understand what had happened. Make her realize how terribly wrong he had been. She was a prize worth waiting for and he could be a very patient man.

  * * * **

  “Look, Romeo,” Tess began before pausing to pour herself another glass of chablis. “You’ve asked me at least a hundred times already where Whitney is and I’ve told you. Quite frankly I don’t know.”

  The thunderous look on Christian’s face prompted Tess to continue in an attempt to placate him. “I’m sure she just needed a little time to herself. She’ll be back in the city in no time. She’s just not used to men who come on as strong as you did in the studio that day, you know? Couldn’t you tell she was wet behind the ears?”

  That remark earned her another glance which told her that he knew more than he was telling her. Tess was beginning to feel uneasy. She had been worried about Whitney too and Christian’s behavior was doing nothing to alleviate the apprehension gnawing at her belly. It wasn’t like Whitney to just disappear without a word. In the past after finishing a book she would take some time off and quite often Tess would go with her. But this time she had simply left town without a phone call, a note, without anything at all.

  Studying Christian’s granite profile, a nagging question beat an irritating staccato in her mind. What if Whitney hadn’t been able to stop Christian from coming on to her? He might not have been able to keep his hands off her. She was a truly beautiful woman and it had been blatantly obvious to everyone, with the exception of Whitney herself, that Christian was attracted to her. Tess had hoped for just such a reaction. But what if it had gone too far? What if Whitney had ended up hurt and that was why she had run away? Tess decided that she would have to resolve the issue before she drove herself crazy imagining the worst.

  “Christian Warrington Dade! So help me God, if you laid a hand on that poor, unsuspecting girl I’ll kill you!”

  Tess charged across the room to where Christian had been leaning against a sun-splashed wall in her living room and jabbed her finger sharply into his chest. His dark, scowling features told her she had hit the nail on the head and she instantly lost her temper.

  “Just what didyou do to her? She doesn’t have any experience with men like you.”

  “Don’t you think I feel bad enough already,” Christian blazed back at her, his black eyes snapping with self-directed anger.

  “You didn’t…uhmmm…you didn’t finish…” Tess sputtered, not able to put into words what was too horrible to imagine. She had thrown Whitney to the wolves, well at least to this black-hearted one. How could she have not seen this coming? How could she have d
one that to her best friend?

  “No!” Christian bellowed back at her. Tess heaved a huge sigh of relief.

  “Well, whatever you did was enough to scare the hell out of her and send her God only knows where. She could be anywhere, you know.”

  “She’ll have to be back and ready for work whenever that woman calling herself an author decides to take up writing again, won’t she?” Christian demanded as he crossed to pour himself a stiff drink. He downed it quickly and chased it with a second.

  “Not necessarily.” Then the full impact of what Christian had said hit Tess. “You didn’t stupidly refer to Lane McLaughlin in that exact manner in front of Whitney did you?” she gasped. The pieces of the puzzle were slowly coming together.

  “I believe I made a comment close to it that seemed to get Whitney a little riled up.”

  “Of all the idiotic…” Tess muttered under her breath, glaring in Christian’s direction. She flopped down on a pastel-striped green chair and drew a deep breath before addressing Christian in much the same manner a parent would an errant child who had foolishly made an error in judgment.

  “I can’t believe that with all your supposed ‘experience’ with women you were dense enough to actually speak ill of Whitney’s boss in front of her, let alone the fact that you’re riding on the shirttails of the same woman’s success yourself.”

  Definitely not the right thing to say. Christian’s livid face was within inches of her own before Tess had a chance to finish the last word.

  “I don’t need you, or Whitney, or anyone else for that matter, to remind me that I am relying on that woman and others just like her to get me out of the mess I’m in.” Tess could see his nostrils flare with each carefully chosen word.

  “Settle down there, tiger. This is me remember. Good ol’ Tess, your friend. And in case you’ve forgotten, your onlyfriend at the moment.”

  Christian was not amused. “I’m here to do a job, a dirty, nasty little job and as soon as it’s over I’ll be out of here. Until then, I do not want to be told how grateful I should be to have people admire me or fantasize about me. Thanks but no thanks.” His voice was tight and scornful, almost acidic and Tess drew back involuntarily.

  “You’ll get what you want from me and I’ll get what I need. Money. Lots of it. Then I’ll be able to turn my back on this regrettable part of my life and get on with something that matters more than this ever could, do you understand?”

  “I understand you’re behaving like a world-class ass!” Anger crept into Tess’ voice in response to his. “And if this is the way you talked to Whitney I can understand why she would want to put as much distance between the two of you as she could. At the moment I think it sounds like a good idea myself.”

  Christian stared at her retreating back as she swept from the room, leaving him to wonder how he had managed to let his temper lead him to the brink of disaster once again. He needed to talk to someone about all that had gone on lately, not explode whenever some hapless person pressed the wrong emotional button. He’d already screwed things up with Whitney. He didn’t need to let the same thing happen with Tess.

  He caught up to her on the patio where she stood looking across her finely sculpted garden and its offering of early spring blooms.

  “I’m sorry, Tess,” Christian apologized catching her arm and turning her in his direction. His voice took on an entirely different tone as he sought to correct his mistake. “I had no business yelling at you like that. In fact, I deserve every word you said.”

  Tess refused to look at him but grudgingly conceded, “Yes, you do. Especially the part about being an ass.”

  His laughter rang out and she found she couldn’t stay mad at him. She had never been able to for long anyway.

  Turning searching blue eyes to his, Tess asked again, with more concern this time, “Can you tell me what happened that night that would have made Whitney want to leave?”

  “We argued about the type of books Lane McLaughlin writes and when I ran out of things to say I kissed her.”

  “That’s it. You just kissed her? You’re sure you didn’t give your hands permission to map out the lay of the land?”

  Christian had the good grace to look away giving Tess all the answer she needed.

  “You really are a big dumb ox, you know?” As his face started to cloud over again she added, “Oh, just stop it. There’s no reason to get all mad again. If I had spent the evening with you and first you denigrated my employer, who, by the way Whitney is extremely close to, then I found you taking more candy from the jar than you asked for, you wouldn’t find me sitting by the phone either. We’ll just have to let her decide when she’s ready to come back.”

  “But what about her job?”

  “She doesn’t need that job, or any other job for that matter. Her parents left her so well off that she wouldn’t have to work a day in her life if she chose not to. She just does it to have something to occupy her time now that she’s all alone.” For Tess, lying came as second nature and she had perfected it to an art. “So don’t be surprised to find that she’s decided to quit playing secretary and take up a new hobby for a while.”

  “Oh.” He jammed his hands into his pockets and contemplated the toe of his boots for a few seconds. “Then where does she go when she needs to get out of town?” Christian asked brusquely, not liking the way the conversation was going.

  “Boy, you really have it for her bad, don’t you, Christian?” Tess had perched herself on the balustrade encircling the patio and was gleefully swinging her legs back and forth as she teased him. She might have forgiven him for his earlier outburst but she was far from ready to forget it, or let him off the hook without a few repercussions. “Don’t you have a dozen or so tellers and bookkeepers anxiously waiting for you to get back to Tacoma?”

  “I told you I wasn’t going back to banking, so no, I don’t have anyone waiting for me at home,” Christian replied impatiently. “Now, about the places Whitney likes to go?”

  “Uhmmm, let’s see,” Tess said at length, enjoying putting Christian through a little hell of his own. She hadn’t appreciated him yelling at her one bit.

  “She did mention that one day she might like to visit the nude beaches on the Riviera, or maybe catch some of the night life in Rio.” At the look of skepticism she received she went on, relishing each opportunity to remind him that he had made a huge mistake putting Whitney in the same class the other women in his life fit into. “Oops, my mistake. That must have been some other friend because we both know our little Whitney wouldn’t act like that.”

  “Tess,” Christian said menacingly.

  “Oh, all right. But I still don’t see why it’s so important for you to talk to her. We both know she’s not your type, so why not just move on to the next beautiful female to catch your eye and let Whitney be?”

  Christian wondered the same thing but he instead answered vaguely, “I have my reasons.”

  “I’ll just bet you do,” Tess agreed knowingly.

  “Are you going to answer my question or do I have to drag it out of you?” Christian actually looked as if he would the way he cocked one eyebrow at Tess in a silent dare for her to continue dodging the issue.

  “Still the tyrant when it gets right down to it I see,” she laughed. Tess had always been allowed to press him further than anyone else but she could see he was quickly approaching the end of his patience, given what little he possessed of the quality.

  “She’ll go to the mountains, I’d bet my last dollar on it. She almost always goes where she can either see or be near them. She says they help fill her soul, or some such nonsense. Personally, I think she must have fallen off one at some point or another, because I fail to see the attraction.”

  Christian did. At every turn it seemed he moved closer to Whitney. There were too many coincidences between the lives they led for him to believe their meeting had been just chance. The love of mountains, the Victorian furnishings, these things told him that she lo
nged for the same things he did. A simple existence. Freedom to be who he really was. Could it be she felt the same way?

  “What kind of mountains does she like?” he wanted to know as he drummed his fingers along the railing.

  “How many kinds are there? The tall, pointy, snow-capped ones, I would guess.”

  Christian grinned and rephrased his question. “I meant, which mountain chains interest her. The Rockies? The Tetons? Does she have a favorite spot that makes her feel good?”

  “You need to ask me that?”

  “Tess, could we just stick to one subject at a time! I let some personal feelings get in the way of my regard for her and now I want to find her so that I can apologize for my rotten behavior. That’s all. Are you going to help me, or not?”

  “I don’t know,” Tess answered and pretended to ponder the question. “You don’t seem ready to move mountains to apologize to me for all the nasty things I’ve heard out of you over the years. Whitney must be pretty special.” She slanted a look in Christian’s direction as she jumped up and began to pace back and forth in front of him, stretching his discomfort as much as she dared. “To answer your question though I’ll help when I know something. And right now, like I already told you, I don’t.” She peeked at him over her shoulder as she passed him. “Will you leave me alone if I promise to call the minute I hear anything?”

  “No. That’s not good enough. You have connections, so use them.” His voice was demanding as he stood to block her path. He was all business again. “Find out where she went, who saw her leave. When you do, I’ll stop harassing you, otherwise you’d better get used to having me around, because I plan to be on you like bees on honey until you deliver.”