Diana Palmer - Carrera's Bride

“There!” Delia said, relieved. “That solves the problem.”

Barb was frowning. “You aren’t going off with Carrera anywhere, are you?” she asked suspiciously.

Delia managed to look dumbfounded. “Chance would be a fine thing!” she exclaimed. “I mean, look at me,” she added, spreading her arms wide. “Tell me why a man that rich would look twice at a plain, nobody of a seamstress from a little town in Texas?”

“You are not plain!” Barb argued. “The right clothes and makeup and you’d be a knockout. In fact, we just outfitted you, didn’t we, and you have yet to wear a single thing I bought you!”

“I will. I promise,” Delia said in a conciliatory tone.

Barb sighed. “No, you won’t. You spend your life in sweats and old shirts. In fact, you didn’t even have any shirts without pictures or writing on them until I brought you down here and took you shopping.”

“I’ll wear the new clothes,” Delia promised, and she meant it. Marcus might like her in something pretty.

“We need to talk about this,” Barb continued.

“But not right now,” Barney said impatiently, looking at his Rolex. “We have to go right now or we’ll miss our flight.”

“All right,” Barb said reluctantly. She hugged Delia. “You keep this door locked while we’re gone,” she began. Barney was opening the door and motioning to her. “Don’t open it unless you know who’s outside!”

“Yes, Barb,” Delia said automatically.

“And do not go out at night alone…” Barb continued.

Barney had her by the arm and was dragging her toward the door. She laughed. “Don’t take candy from strangers!” she called merrily. “Don’t go too near the ocean, and don’t pet stray dogs!”

“I won’t, I promise,” Delia chuckled.

“I love you!”

The door closed on the last word.

“I love you, too!” Delia called after her.

There was a skirl of laughter and then, silence.

Delia tried on three of the new outfits Barb had bought for her before she settled on a simple white peasant blouse with a lace-edged white cotton skirt and a wide magenta cotton wrap belt. She’d found the outfit in one of the local stores and the saleslady, an elegant tall woman, had showed her how to wrap the belt around her waist several times and tuck it in. The result was very chic, especially with Delia’s small waist.

She was vibrating with nervous energy and indecision about her choice when the phone rang and made her jump. She ran to answer it.

“Yes?” she said at once.

There was a deep chuckle, as if he knew she’d been sitting on hot coals waiting for him and was pleased by it. “I’m in the lobby,” he said.

“I’ll be right down.”

She hung up and darted to the door, only then realizing that she was barefoot and had forgotten both her purse and the room key. With a rueful laugh at her own forgetfulness, she ran back to get her shoes and purse and key.

Eight breathless minutes later, she arrived in the luxurious lobby, having spent five minutes waiting for the elevator.

She stepped out into the lobby and looked around worriedly for Marcus. And there he was, lounging against the wall opposite the bank of elevators, lazily elegant and smiling.

He was wearing a green knit shirt with brown slacks. He looked big and expensive and sexy.

He was looking, too, his dark eyes intent on her trim figure and especially her wealth of long, wavy blond hair that she’d left cascading down to her waist in back.

He smiled then, warmly, and she went straight to him, almost colliding with another hotel guest she didn’t even see, causing amused glances from passersby.

“Hi,” she said huskily.

“Hi,” he returned, his voice deep and soft. “Ready to go?”

She thought about the risks she was taking, the danger she could be in, the anger and betrayal that Barb was going to feel. But nothing mattered except that look in his dark eyes. She threw caution and reason to the winds.

“I’m ready,” she said.

Marcus could hardly believe this was the same shy, conservative woman he’d met only the night before. She looked exciting in that lacy white thing, with her long hair down. He’d had second thoughts about involving her in his life when it was in flux, but in the end, he hadn’t had a choice. It had been pure luck that Fred had chosen to bring her along to the meeting they didn’t get to have. She was Barney’s sister-in-law and that gave him a connection to a badly needed contact. He could pass a message along in a very innocent way, through a woman he could pretend to be interested in. The fly in the ointment was Barbara, Delia’s sister, who was not going to approve of her baby sister dating a gangster.

It was amazing, that of all the women he’d known—and there had been some beautiful ones—he honestly was interested in her. It wasn’t like him to be attracted to a small-town girl like Delia. She wasn’t his style at all. Then, too, there was the question of his past. She thought he was a security guard. She had no idea who, or what, he really was. It wasn’t fair to her to let her believe a lie. But he didn’t dare tell her the truth. She didn’t seem the sort of woman to be comfortable spending time with a gangster, even if he was reformed. And he needed her to spend time with him. For a few weeks, at least.

He reached out slowly and caught her cold, nervous fingers in his, linking them together. It was like touching a live wire. Her hand jerked in his, as if she, too, felt the electricity. Her breath caught audibly. She winced when she realized that he knew exactly what she was feeling.

“Don’t look like that,” he said in a deep, velvet tone, moving closer. “I feel it, too.”

“I haven’t slept,” she choked, lost in his eyes.

“Neither have I,” he replied curtly. He studied her perfect complexion, the faint flush on her cheeks a dead giveaway of her turmoil. “Where’s your sister?”

“On her way to Miami with Barney. Some sort of crisis. And Fred’s gone there, too,” she added breathlessly.

“To Miami?” He looked thoughtful.

“So Barney said. God knows why, Barney says he’s got no business interests there.”

“None that Barney knows about, maybe,” Marcus mused. He seemed distant for a moment. Then he blinked and smiled down at Delia. “I’ve got a big day planned for us. Let’s go.”

“Okay,” she said softly.

He didn’t ask any questions and she didn’t tell him about Barb’s warning about him. She was going to pretend that there were no complications. She was going to pretend she didn’t know who he was, too. This was one day she was simply going to enjoy. It might be the only one she had with him. She wasn’t going to waste it in worry.

They walked out the front door holding hands, but Mr. Smith and the limo were nowhere in sight. A cab was waiting at the entrance instead.

“I didn’t want to raise eyebrows, in case your sister had told you something about me,” he murmured.

“What would she have told me about you?” she wondered, pretending innocence.

His expression was priceless. He looked relieved. “What did you tell her?”

“That Fred assaulted me and the head of security at the hotel brought me home,” she said simply.

“Not my name?” he persisted.

She grimaced. “I didn’t think of it until it was too late…”

“Don’t think of it,” he said tersely. “I’ll explain later.”

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