It was him.
Jackson Montoya called every morning at nine o'clock to pick up his messages. Which were always a little mysterious and always from women. Carrie had just taken over the business two weeks ago, but Jackson's whiskey-smooth voice had induced more than one fantasy about a man she'd never even met.
Licking her dry lips, she flipped the switch, then spoke into the mouthpiece of her headset. "Good morning, Mr. Montoya."
"Good morning."
The deep rumble of his voice sent delicious shivers down her spine. Either he was the sexiest man she'd ever heard or eight months was much too long to go without a date.
"Any messages?" he asked.
Jackson never wasted words. Or revealed any personal information about himself. Even her mother didn't know the nature of Jackson's business. Perhaps his calls were strictly personal.
"Just three," Carrie replied, pulling the message ledger in front of her. "Samantha will meet you at Charlie's for lunch at one o'clock, Vivian is expecting you at her gym at three, and Marie will be parked by the Dumpster behind Carlo's House of Carpet at 10 o'clock tonight."
"Thanks." The light flashed off and Jackson was gone.
She flipped off the switch. "You're welcome, Mr. Montoya. Call anytime. Or stop by if you want. We could meet in the kitchen pantry. Or on the sofa. Or in the hammock out back...."
The office door opened and her mother walked inside, putting an end to the one-sided conversation. She wore an ivory silk wedding gown with delicate lace at the collar and cuffs. "Well, what do you think?"
Carrie's throat tightened. "Oh, Mom, it's absolutely beautiful."
Ellen's blue eyes gleamed. "I think so, too. I just hope Harris likes it."
"He'll love it." Carrie hadn't seen her mother this happy since before her father died five years ago. A widow at 43, Ellen Barlow had started the answering service to support herself. Most of her customers were small-business owners. Electricians, plumbers, and salesmen who needed someone to handle incoming calls while they were out in the field.
But none of those clients was as intriguing as Jackson Montoya.
"I can't believe the wedding is less than a month away." Ellen fluttered around the room, obviously too excited to stand still. "Harris won't tell me where we're going on our honeymoon. He wants to surprise me."
"Oh, that reminds me," Carrie said. "Harris called three times. He said to tell you he misses you."
Ellen blushed. "I just saw him at dinner last night."
A light buzzed on the switchboard and Carrie turned around to take the incoming call. It was Jackson Montoya's line. Probably another woman wanting to arrange a rendezvous. With a resigned sigh, Carrie flipped the switch. "Jackson Montoya's answering service. May I take a message?"
"This is Marie," whispered a tremulous voice. "Tell Jackson I won't be able to make our date this evening."
"Would you like to reschedule?" Carrie asked, wondering why these women never gave a last name.
"No," she replied. "Tell him I think it's better that we never meet. Tell him I won't be calling him again. And tell him...no, forget it. I have to go."
The line went dead. Carrie shrugged as she flipped the switch. Then another line buzzed. "It's your private line," she told her mother. "Probably Harris again."
"I'll get it in my room," Ellen said, hurrying out the door.
Carrie sighed, realizing with a pang of envy that her mother's love life was more exciting than her own.
Maybe it was time to change that.
She stared down at the message she'd just taken as a truly outrageous plan formed in her mind.
What if she took Marie's place?
"Don't be ridiculous," she said aloud, shoving the message aside. But it wasn't so easy to push away the idea.
She could finally see the face behind that sexy voice. Finally meet Jackson Montoya.
It was crazy. She couldn't do it...could she?
A few moments later, Ellen stuck her head in the door. "Harris wants to take me out for dinner again tonight. But I hate to leave you here alone. I'll tell him to come over here for dinner, instead. We can all play Scrabble together."
"Thanks, Mom." She crumpled Marie's message in her hand, her heart pounding hard in her chest. "But I already have a date."
At 9:55 that evening, Carrie knew she'd made a serious mistake. She sat in her car behind Carlo's House of Carpets, wondering what had ever possessed her to meet a total stranger in the deserted industrial area of Minneapolis. She might be desperate for a date, but she wasn't stupid.
Shifting the car into reverse, she backed out of the parking space. The crunch of metal made her cringe as her car jerked to a halt.
A deep, guttural curse echoed into the night.
She recognized that voice. Jackson Montoya. He must have driven up behind her with his headlights off. So much for making a good first impression. Taking a deep breath, she got out of her car to survey the damage.
He stood near the entangled bumpers, almost invisible in his dark clothing. Then he turned toward her, moving out of the shadows so the light from the streetlamp illuminated the clean-shaven planes of his face and a solid, square jaw. His dark hair was trimmed short above his ears but hung longer in the back, almost to his shirt collar.
Impossible as it was to believe, he looked even better than she'd imagined.
"Marie?"
"I'm so sorry," she said, motioning to their cars. "It was all my fault. I'm sure my insurance will cover it."
"No problem," he said huskily. "There's just some minor damage to the bumper. You have enough to worry about right now."
She did?
He pulled an envelope out of his jacket. "I've already done some preliminary work on the man you want me to investigate. He's lived under several aliases for the past 30 years and never stayed in one place for long."
Too late, Carrie realized this wasn't some clandestine romantic rendezvous. Jackson sounded all business, although she noticed his gaze kept drifting down the length of her body.
Jackson took a step closer to her, handing over the envelope. "Go ahead and take a look."
Carrie was all too aware of his powerful body standing beside her. She fumbled with the seal on the envelope, finally opening it and pulling out a small stack of photographs.
"He certainly fits the MO of a hustler," Jackson said, his warm breath caressing the back of her neck. "But I'll need your help to prove it."
Carrie stared in disbelief at the silver-haired man in the photographs. That wasn't just any hustler.
It was Harris Dodd — her mother's fiancé.
"That's Harris!" Carrie blurted out.
"Of course, this is Harris, or at least that's what he's been calling himself for the past two months I've been investigating him," Jackson said, arching one dark, thick eyebrow.
Momentarily distracted by the movement of that wickedly sexy brow, Carrie could only stare at him, speechless.
"You are Marie, aren't you?" Something dangerous flashed in his eyes as he studied her intently.
"Who else could I be?" Carrie answered, nervously licking her lips.
"Good question," Jackson said silkily, as he slowly advanced toward her.
For every step he took closer, Carrie took one back until she was trapped between the hard wall of his chest and the brick wall behind her.
"Why don't you tell me who else you might be?"
His voice sounded lethal now, and a chill went down her spine. Carrie frantically searched for a convincing explanation of her deception when an idea struck her. If she could fool Jackson into believing that she actually was Marie, she could find out just what he knew about Harris Dodd.
She still was having trouble believing this was happening. If what Jackson had revealed so far about Harris was true, her mother was ready to make a huge mistake. And Carrie wasn't about to allow that to happen, not if she could help it.
"Of course I'm Marie," Carrie bluffed, not quite meeting his eyes. "If I weren't, why would I be waiting here at this time of night in this spot," she said, gesturing at the vandalized Dumpster, which was covered in crude graffiti and insulting references concerning Carlo the Carpet King's parentage.
"And of course you have identification to prove it," Jackson replied smoothly. It wasn't a question but a command.
Carrie flinched as he took the photographs out of her hands, which had suddenly gone limp. He quickly tucked them back into the envelope, and placed it inside his jacket.
"Well…" Carrie began, wracking her brain for a reason why she didn't have a driver's license on her.
"After all," he continued reasonably, "I'll need to contact your insurance company to get this little accident straightened out."
As Carrie hesitated, Jackson pressed even closer, until he was so close that her breasts were brushing against his hard, muscular chest. Carrie couldn't control the quick intake of breath at the contact. Even under these tense circumstances, she was too aware of the powerful current of attraction she felt at his nearness.
Her breath held as Jackson's face inched toward hers, his dark eyes mesmerizing her. His full lips were so dangerously near to her own that his breath was caressing them, and she shivered with desire.
Abruptly he slapped his hands down on the wall on either side of her head.
"I think it's about time you told me who you are," he growled.
"I am Marie!" Carrie insisted, shrilly. A bolt of fear ran through her. How much did she really know about Jackson Montoya? And here she was alone with him, in the pitch black of night, in a deserted parking lot hidden behind a building.
Before she could say another word in her defense, a set of headlights blinded them as a car screeched into the parking lot. Carrie felt Jackson's muscles grow taut. He turned, shielding her with his body as a strikingly beautiful young woman with long red hair jumped out of the car.
"Jackson?" she said in a husky voice. "I didn't think you would still be hanging around here."
"Who are you?" Jackson asked, though it was evident from the tone of his voice that he knew exactly who the woman was.
"I'm Marie."
Giving Carrie a look that said, Try and talk your way out of this one, Jackson said in a low, lethal tone, "Don't move an inch," as he pushed off the wall and made his way over to Marie.
Too scared and excited to do anything else, Carrie stood in the shadow of the Dumpster watching them. She didn't like the way she reacted to this man. Her skin was flushed and her heart was beating wildly, not to mention the butterflies wreaking havoc in her stomach.
She especially didn't like the way her stomach clenched when she saw Marie touch his arm as he opened the folder and then let her hand linger on his back as they looked at the contents of the folder together.
Shaking her head, she made herself concentrate on what was important. Harris Dodd. Good Lord, what had her mother gotten into? Harris had seemed like such a nice man. Not the type to lure innocent women into handing over their life savings.
Carrie noticed a tear fall down Marie's cheek. Poor girl. Who was Harris to her? She watched as Marie closed the folder, got into her car, and drove away.
Carrie's heart began to beat madly. Jackson was making his way back to her. He grabbed her arm and began to drag her behind him.
"Hey," she protested, "let me go!"
He turned around so abruptly that she bumped into him, her chest thrown flat against his. Heat flooded through her, and she took a step back as if she were scorched.
His eyes narrowed and came to rest on her lips. "Lady," he said huskily, "you're not going anywhere until I get some answers." He walked to his black sedan, opened the door, and looked behind him to see that she hadn't moved an inch. He sighed.
"I'm not going to hurt you. Will you please get in the car?" Jackson said, a pleading tone in his voice. Carrie imagined that it was probably the closest Jackson Montoya had ever come to begging.
I must be losing my mind! Carrie thought as she jogged over to his car, opened the door, and climbed in.
Jackson started the engine and the car came to life. They hadn't driven a full minute when he said, "Okay, shoot. Who the hell are you and how do you know Dodd?"
"My name's Carrie. Harris is my mother's fiancé."
"Ellen Barlow's your mother?"
Carrie was stunned. "How did you know…?"
"I make it my business to know everything about whom I'm investigating."
"Oh."
"Why were you impersonating Marie?"
I thought you sounded extremely sexy, so when Marie couldn't make your rendezvous I figured I'd show up and see if you were man enough for me. So much for the truth, Carrie thought.
Not about to let something so trivial get in his way, Jackson told her, "You've been keeping me a secret." He turned to her as he said this, a mischievous grin splitting open his face.
"Right," Carrie muttered. Well, why not? It could be believable that he was her boyfriend, and that she'd wanted to keep it secret until she was sure their relationship had some lasting power…unlike her previous dating disasters.
"Okay," she told him, "take a left at the next light."
Jackson was stunned. She was going for it? He figured asking her to deceive her mother was a lot to ask of a woman who just found out her soon-to-be stepfather was a hustler.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Like you said, I got myself into this, and I don't want to see my mom married to this man. Not now."
Jackson had never before let his work get personal. Suddenly he had more of a reason to catch the bad guy than just for the money it would bring from his client. He wanted to do it for Carrie. God help him, he wasn't sure why. It had to be more than the way that green sweater clung to her breasts and the way she kept nervously licking her lips.
Carrie led him to the house she and her mom shared. Harris's car was parked out front.
"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. "Here we go."
"Look, I run the answering service you use. Marie called, said she couldn't make your appointment, so here I am."
"Why not just give me the message?" he asked sarcastically. "Too simple?"
"If you must know, I was bored, not wanting to spend another night playing Scrabble with Mom and Harris. It sounded exciting." She shrugged with embarrassment, knowing she sounded foolish.
"Meeting a strange guy in an alley late at night sounded exciting?"
"I know it was stupid, but you don't have to be a jerk about it."
"You know where Harris is now?"
"They're probably back from dinner by now," she said, looking at her watch. "He's probably still at Mom's."
"How do we get there?"
"We are not going there," Carrie stressed.
"Oh yes, we are. You got yourself into this," he pointed out. "I've been racking my brain for weeks trying to think of a way I could meet Dodd in a neutral setting. This is perfect. I'm now officially your boyfriend."
Carrie laughed. "My boyfriend? Did it ever occur to you that they know I don't have a boyfriend?"
"Nice place," Jackson muttered as he parked and turned off the ignition.
Carrie was too edgy to respond. She undid her seat belt and opened the sedan door. Jackson hurried around and surprised her by assisting her out of the car. She thanked him with a nervous smile.
"Ready?" he asked her, looking deeply into her eyes.
Carrie nodded, though she wasn't sure at all that she was up to deceiving her mother, even if it was in her best interest. What if Jackson was mistaken about Harris, and by interfering she and Jackson ended up wrecking her mother's life by scaring off a man she truly loved?
Jackson sensed Carrie's apprehension. "You can do this. You have to do this," he insisted.
She nodded again, this time with more confidence. "I know," she said, with a big sigh.
"Let's go in, then," he said, taking her firmly by the arm and leading her toward the front door.
Carrie could hear the sound of her mother's and Harris's boisterous laughter through the closed door. As she unlocked the door, she hesitated for a moment, wishing she had a mint for her mouth, which had suddenly gone dry. She felt Jackson's hand on her back, gently urging her forward. Carrie walked into the hallway, followed by her new "boyfriend."
"Mom! I'm home," she called out, over the peals of laughter. She was heading for the kitchen when Jackson reached out and grabbed hold of her hand.
"We have to make this convincing," he murmured, smiling at her seductively.
Carrie stuck her tongue out at him.
"Don't stick that out unless you're planning to use it!" He grinned and winked at her.
Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. She had wanted to find out more about Jackson Montoya, and it looked like she was going to.… Faster than she'd ever imagined. But at what price?
"Actually, I have you to thank for it, Mrs. Barlow," Jackson purred.
"What did I have to do with it?"
"Carrie has been answering my phone since she took the answering service business over from you. When I called her to get my messages, I just loved the sound of her voice, so I asked her out for lunch to see if she was as delectable as she sounded. And she is! The rest is history." He grinned and reached over to stroke Carrie's hair.
Carrie was hypnotized by his touch and had trouble thinking straight. She knew she had better do something before she blew this whole thing. In what she hoped was a casual and familiar manner, she placed her hand on Jackson's thigh and gave it a loving tap.
Jackson arched an eyebrow and placed his hand over hers, smiling at her wickedly. Carrie's mother beamed.
A loud pop sounded from the kitchen. Harris backed through the kitchen door, carrying a tray of champagne flutes.
"I found a bottle of bubbly in the fridge and it looked too good to resist!" he said as he placed the tray on the coffee table. They all picked up a flute and took a sip as Harris made a toast.
"To true love!" He proclaimed, beaming at Ellen.
Jackson spoke up. "Harris, you must have been reading my mind. This is exactly what Carrie and I needed to announce our engagement!"
Carrie choked on the champagne she was sipping and feared it was going to come out her nose.
Her mother's delighted squeal sounded at the same time as the front doorbell.
"Now who could that be?" Ellen wondered out loud.
From the sofa, Carrie could see the outline of a female form with long, wavy hair peering through the front window. She turned to Jackson and whispered in horror. "It's Marie!"
She and Jackson entered the kitchen, where they found Ellen breathlessly giggling as Harris chased her around the kitchen table. Her heart sank. She couldn't recall a single time she had caught her parents fooling around as exuberantly as Harris and her mother were right now, she reflected sadly. How could this man be a hustler? She pushed the thought away.
"Hi, sweetie!" her mother said, as she tried to catch her breath.
Harris straightened his shirt and brushed his silver hair with his fingers. "Hey there, Carrie! Me and your mom were just having a little fun," he said, winking at Ellen. "Who's your friend?" He strode over to Jackson and stuck out his hand. "Harris Dodd. I'm Carrie's mother's fiancé."
"Jackson Montoya. I'm Carrie's boyfriend."
"Boyfriend? When did this happen?" Her mother rushed over to shake Jackson's hand.
"Well, Mom…we've been dating for a while, but I didn't want to mention it until we were sure we wanted to be…exclusive," Carrie stammered.
Jackson quickly stepped in. "Mrs. Barlow, I'm delighted to finally meet you. I've heard so many wonderful things about you from Carrie," he said, throwing an arm around Carrie and squeezing her to his side. Her mother looked as though she was about to burst with joy.
"Why don't we go into the living room and get acquainted over a nice bottle of wine?" Harris suggested. "I'll get it, love," he told Ellen, gesturing for her to follow Carrie and Jackson.
They all settled down on the large L-shaped sofa. The gas fireplace was on, and the room felt cozy and comfortable. Carrie wished she did, too, but instead she felt more nervous than ever as sweat trickled down between her breasts. The image of Jackson licking it off her flashed through her mind, and her nipples tightened.
"So, tell me, how did you two meet?" her mother gushed.
Carrie was at a loss for words, still taken aback by her less than pure thoughts about Jackson.
Carrie's mind raced. For an instant she wondered if Jackson had arranged for Marie to follow them. But the startled expression on his face immediately told her that he had no idea why Marie was at the front door.
She had to act quickly. Carrie didn't want anything to jeopardize her mother's brief happiness with Harris until she and Jackson were absolutely certain of what Harris's motives were.
"I recognize her! That's our waitress from dinner. I — I must have left my wallet at the restaurant. Wasn't that nice of her to bring it?" Carrie blurted out, giving Jackson a pleading look. "Would you take care of this for me…darling?"
Jackson arched an eyebrow, as if impressed that she could concoct such a tale so easily. His appreciative grin turned into a warm smile, and the look in his eyes told Carrie not to worry. With a wink and a reassuring caress of her thigh, Jackson rose and walked over to the front door. A shiver ran through her from the sudden loss of heat along her side, or maybe it was from the intimacy of Jackson's touch.
While Jackson spoke with Marie, Carrie turned to face two pairs of inquiring eyes. She took a deep breath and dug her fingers into the couch cushions on either side of her knees. How was she going to explain…her engagement?
"Well…I suppose you're both a bit surprised." No more surprised than she was. "Like I said earlier, we kept our relationship quiet until we were sure of our future. It's been a whirlwind romance. Jackson just…swept me off my feet." And into my wildest fantasies, she thought. "When Jackson proposed tonight, well…I couldn't refuse."
"Oh, sweetheart, we are so happy for you!" Ellen squeezed Harris's hand tightly as she spoke, clearly thrilled. "It makes our news easier to tell you."
Carrie looked from her mother to Harris and back again. Each face beamed like a child on Christmas morning. "Wh-what news?"
"After our wedding, Harris and I will be moving to Venezuela."
Carrie was rendered speechless. Her jaw dropped, and she had still not recovered when Jackson returned to her side.
One glance at Carrie's stunned face distracted Jackson from what he had just learned about Marie. "What is it, Carrie? What's wrong?" he said as he gently turned her to face him.
"M-mother and Harris are moving to Venezuela after their wedding."
Jackson knew that Carrie's concern stemmed from her fear for her mother's happiness. Her concern for the happiness of others warmed Jackson's heart — a rare occurrence in recent years.
"I think that sounds wonderful. A new life together that begins with such an adventure promises to be very exciting."
Carrie stared at him in disbelief. He seemed so sincere in his congratulations that she had to remind herself of the real reason for his presence. He was only doing his job. His hand was on hers again, and the warm squeeze he gave her only furthered her confusion. Her body reacted to his touch as if he had caressed her most intimate places.
Time seemed endless as Carrie's eyes roamed his face, searching out his thoughts, hoping for a reflection of the passion she was feeling. She found only practiced control and a boyish grin.
Movement from the other side of the sectional finally drew her attention and gaze from his striking features. Ellen and Harris stood and moved toward the front door.
"I think we should leave you two kids alone." Harris's eyes crinkled in a smile. "Besides, I have an early business meeting." Ellen and Harris bid them both good night and left.
Carrie found herself alone with her "fiancé." Returning her gaze to Jackson, Carrie met a smoldering look in his deep brown eyes. The veneer of professional control was gone.
The intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine, out of anticipation rather than fear. She pulled her gaze away from his, only to find herself staring at the broad expanse of his chest straining against the fabric of his shirt. Again she tried to find a safe place to look, but her eyes landed on his muscular thighs, then on his strong hand resting on hers. Finally she looked at her feet for safety.
"How did you convince Marie to leave?"
Jackson leaned closer. "I told her that she couldn't reveal the truth tonight." He lifted a lean, dark finger to her cheek, and stroked her skin.
"Wh-what do you mean?"
His lips followed the path of his finger, brushing along her cheek. Carrie suddenly found breathing a very difficult task. She could feel his hot breath on her neck as he kissed his way down to her shoulder, inciting a new wave of shivers. He rested against her nape.
"Marie is not Harris's victim." Jackson lifted his head, touched a hand to Carrie's chin, and turned her to face him. "She is his daughter."
Carrie scarcely had a moment to absorb the revelation, because Jackson's lips were on hers, even as he finished the last word.
Carrie barely had time to feel shocked before her own passion, already kindled, was ignited by the heat his lips were arousing in her.
Her desire rose, thrusting all lesser feelings and thoughts aside. Jackson's lips felt so hot against hers. Her arms were around his muscular neck and she was returning his kisses before her mind could register his words.
"His daughter?" Carrie mumbled through lips that were not working properly. "Harris has a daughter?"
Pushing out of Jackson's embrace, Carrie stood up. Perhaps some distance from his warmth would clear her head. Some distance from her feelings couldn't hurt either.
"Why didn't Harris tell us he has a daughter?" Carrie began, as full realization washed over her. "Why didn't you tell me?" she continued, looking with suspicion into his eyes. Eyes that had suddenly stopped smoldering, sensuality quickly replaced by concern.
Carrie realized her legs were trembling and watched as Jackson leaped to his feet, catching her in his arms as a wave of dizziness overcame her.
Carrie felt herself being gently lowered onto the sofa. Mesmerized by the concern in Jackson's eyes and the strength of his embrace, Carrie's emotions started warring. Suspicion battled passion and seemed to leave only confusion. Through this veil of confusion she saw his lips moving and his words slowly penetrated. His tone of genuine caring dealt suspicion a crippling blow and Carrie felt her head clear.
"I don't think Harris knows he has a daughter," Jackson was saying. "Marie says she has never met him."
Seeing the question in Carrie's eyes, he hastened to add, "I only found out tonight. She told me at the door."
Carrie searched his face for signs of deceit and saw only sincere caring. Feeling embarrassed by her outburst and temporary weakness, she searched for something sensible to say.
"If she is his daughter, and has never met him," Carrie began, "how did she find him?"
With a rueful look on his handsome features Jackson removed his arms and, standing up, began to pace.
"I guess I had something to do with that," he admitted. "I thought she wanted him investigated from a criminal angle. Turns out she only wanted confirmation of his identity."
"Do you remember me showing her the folder on Harris?" Jackson asked, settling back onto the sofa beside her.
An image of Marie standing close to Jackson, her hand on his back, flooded Carrie's memory. There had been a tear on Marie's face. Something had deeply affected her.
"I think she was crying," Carrie whispered.
Jackson's arm encircled her, gently pulling her closer. It felt so natural to allow him this intimacy. Nestling her head against the rigid muscle of his shoulder, Carrie enjoyed a feeling of security and contentment, as if everything was as it should be, everything but Harris.
"Marie recognized one of the aliases Harris used." Jackson's voice interrupted her reverie.
In her shock at hearing of Marie's relationship to Harris, Carrie had forgotten about the aliases. Who was Harris? What possible motive could a man have for constantly changing identities over 30 years? Carrie didn't like any of the answers her imagination was delivering. Fear for her mother's happiness gripped her and she instinctively moved even closer to Jackson.
Lost in her thoughts, consumed by her fears, Carrie was only dimly aware of her hand moving onto his chest. Hard muscles vibrated under her fingers as they traced a path down to his taut flat stomach. Softly nuzzling her cheek against the comfort his presence was providing, she voiced her concerns.
"Why do you suppose Harris has been hiding his identity?" she asked.
"There could be very good reasons. Let's not jump to conclusions," Jackson replied. Lifting her head off his shoulder she looked up. Full awareness of where her hand was came to her as she saw the fire burning in his eyes, and she quickly sat up straight.
"But, don't you see?" Carrie stammered, trying to retreat from the situation her attentions had created. "My mother is planning to marry that man," she finished weakly as she was drawn back into the naked desire she saw reflected on his face.
Jackson drew a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Speaking of weddings, when is the big day?" he asked.
"Three weeks from today. Harris set the date." Carrie told him. She paused a moment. "Jackson, you told me you found out about my mother and Harris during your investigation. Did you include anything about their engagement in your report to Marie?"
When Jackson nodded that he had indeed passed this information to his client, Carrie felt anxiety well up inside her.
"Do you think Marie would sabotage the wedding to punish Harris?" she asked.
Jackson's hand came up to caress her cheek; cupping her face, he whispered, "Don't worry, love. I would never let that happen."
Jackson lowered his face and his mouth covered hers. His lips were at first warm and firm, then as Carrie met his kiss with her own passion, the kiss turned hot and insistent. Carrie found herself responding to his probing tongue, urgently tasting him as her body reacted to his increasingly intimate touch.
Drowning in their mutual desire, they didn't notice Ellen standing in the doorway, dumbfounded by the exchange she had just overheard.
At Ellen’s gasp, Carrie and Jackson broke apart.
She felt like a teenager caught making out with her boyfriend. "Mom, I thought you were going to Harris’s?"
Ellen ignored the question and looked pointedly at Jackson. "Why are you investigating Harris?" she demanded.
Jackson asked Ellen to sit down, but she shook her head. "I need to know, Jackson."
"I’m a private investigator and I was hired to do a background check on Harris." His concern for her mother was obvious and Carrie was touched by it. "I think you should know that he’s lived under several different aliases over the past 30 years."
Ellen’s expression was neutral. "I see."
"You don’t look surprised," said Jackson.
"I’m not. Harris has already told me about his past."
Carrie was shocked. "You know about Harris and you’re still going to marry him?"
Ellen looked surprised by the question. "Of course. His past doesn’t change anything. Now, who is this woman, Marie, and why would she want to sabotage the wedding?"
"Marie thinks Harris is her father," replied Jackson
"Oh dear." Ellen blinked. "Maybe I should sit down." She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. "We have to talk to Harris right away. He should know what’s going on. He’s waiting for me in the car."
Harris’s face registered his surprise at seeing the three of them approach the car, but his surprise quickly changed into concern.
Harris looked startled and then chuckled. "No, Carrie, I’m not. I was a government agent. Thirty years ago I worked under cover to expose the head of a powerful crime family, Sam Campino. When he was sentenced to life for a number of murders based on my testimony, his sons wanted revenge. I had to start a new life under a new name every time their hired thugs got close to tracking me down."
Convinced Harris was not trying to con her mother, Carrie started to smile but was struck by a new thought. "Won’t my mother be in danger being around you?"
Harris smiled reassuringly. "No. The man I testified against died in prison a couple of years ago. While he was in jail, the police were able to bring down the rest of the family. Two of Campino’s sons are in jail, the other one got himself shot by police. So there is no danger."
Harris looked at her earnestly. "Carrie, I love your mother. I would never do anything to put her life at risk. Even though I feel certain my life is no longer in danger, I asked Ellen to leave the country with me, just to be on the safe side. As a final favor, the Witness Protection Program arranged a job for me as liaison to the U.S. Ambassador in Venezuela."
Harris kissed the back of Ellen’s hand, and then glanced over at Jackson. Carrie wondered at the look that passed between the two men. "So you see, I need to know who wanted me investigated and why," said Harris.
Jackson agreed. "My client is a woman named Marie and she claims to be your daughter."
"What?" The shock on Harris’s face was genuine. "I’m not going to tell you it’s impossible, but I have to say that it’s not very likely. Until now, I haven’t felt safe enough to get involved with a woman. Harris looked lovingly at Ellen.
Jackson shook his head. "Something about all of this doesn’t feel right. I’m beginning to think I’ve been investigating the wrong person."
Carrie again wondered if Marie might be some kind of a threat to Harris and her mother. "So what happens now?"
"I think the next order of business is for me to do a background check on Marie. We need to find out what’s really going on, and soon. I’m going to go back to my office right now and do some digging on the computer. See what I can come up with," said Jackson.
Carrie grabbed his hand. "I’m coming with you."
"You may as well stay here and get some sleep, love. It’ll be pretty boring for you just sitting around watching me work."
Carrie doubted she could ever be bored watching him do anything. "I won’t be able to sleep anyway and maybe I can help."
After a moment, Jackson nodded his head. "Okay, you can come with me."
Hours later Jackson stretched as he looked at the time. Nine o’clock! When had he dozed off? He should go home, wash up and then start checking out his new leads.
He glanced over at Carrie sleeping on the couch and a smile came unbidden to his lips. How could he have such strong feelings for a woman he’d only met 11 hours ago? One thing he knew for sure was that he wanted to get to know her much, much better.
He knelt down beside her and gently kissed her awake. Her eyelids fluttered open and he felt the impact of those beautiful green eyes deep in his gut. He closed the distance between them and kissed her more urgently this time. Her answering response fueled his passion, and his need to touch her was overpowering.
A throat being cleared interrupted the kiss and he turned to see who had come into the office. He almost laughed at the improbability of it. It was Marie.
"What’s the matter? Are you all right, Ellen?" he asked, jumping out of the car.
"We’re all fine, but we need to talk," said Ellen.
She clasped Harris’s arm and led him toward the house.
Harris looked confused. "Certainly."
Carrie and Jackson followed the older couple inside. Carrie was grateful for the comfort of Jackson’s arm around her shoulders. She realized she was already getting used to leaning on him for support. How had that happened so quickly?
Everyone sat down and Harris regarded the others expectantly.
Ellen got right to the point. "Harris, I didn’t tell them anything, but they know about your past."
His eyebrows rose and he looked pointedly at Jackson. "Really. And just what is it that you think you know?"
Jackson repeated the information he’d told Ellen. "You must admit it all sounds very suspicious."
"I suppose it could be interpreted that way," said Harris.
Harris looked thoughtful for a moment and then seemed to come to a decision. "This isn’t something I make a habit of telling people, but you’re going to be family soon, so I guess I should tell you. I was in the Witness Protection Program for most of the past 30 years. That’s the reason for the different aliases."
Carrie’s relief was overwhelming. "Then you’re not a con artist?"
Carrie awoke from a beautiful dream into another as Jackson kissed her awake. A sultry, languorous kiss that melted into her bones.
The next moment, he pulled away and swore softly under his breath. Then she saw Marie framed in the doorway.
"What are you doing here?" Jackson asked.
Marie walked inside. "We need to talk. Since you wouldn't let me in at the Barlow house, I followed you here." She nodded toward Carrie, who now stood by his side. "Does she have to be here?""Yes." Jackson's tone held no room for debate.
"What do you want?" Carrie asked, tired of these games. Harris claimed Marie couldn't possibly be his daughter. Either Harris was lying — or Marie was not who she pretended to be.
"This won't take long," Marie said, her attention shifting back to Jackson. "I want you to set up a meeting for me with Harris Dodd."
"Why?"
"You'll find out soon enough." Marie gave him a wry smile. "I'm sure you'll have plenty of protection around when it happens. That doesn't matter to me. As long as I can speak to Dodd personally."
"There's no way we'll leave him alone with you," Jackson warned her. "Tell us what you want."
"Set up the meeting." Marie turned toward the door. "And you'll find out." Then she was gone.
Jackson stared after her, then faced Carrie. "What was that all about?"
"I'm afraid to find out."
"We don't have a choice. It's obvious Marie isn't going to give up until she sees Harris. This way, at least we can control the circumstances."
Then he saw the look on Carrie's face and pulled her into his arms. "Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to him."
"My mother is so happy," Carrie murmured against his broad chest. "If Marie does anything to destroy that..."
Jackson tipped up her chin with one finger, his dark eyes intent on her face. "I won't let her."
Then he kissed her. Not the slow, sweet kiss he'd awakened her with a few moments ago. This kiss was full of heat and passion. His mouth molded to her lips, leaving nothing back.
At last he lifted his head, his breathing short and uneven. "You're incredible," he said huskily, one hand cradling her cheek. "You were made for kissing."
"Then do it again," she whispered, circling her arms around his neck to pull him closer. "And this time don't stop."
Jackson set up the meeting between Harris and Marie a few days later, at his
cabin outside the city. Carrie looked around the rustic interior, finding it as
masculine
as his apartment where she'd spent the past three days. Hardwood floors and
sturdy handwoven rugs. A black leather sofa and matching chair. The walls bare
except for a few exquisite pieces of Mexican pottery.
Harris and Ellen held hands on the sofa. When Jackson first proposed this meeting, Ellen had wanted to leave for Venezuela immediately. But Harris insisted they stay. He didn't want them to start their life together on the run.
"You shouldn't be here," Harris told his fiancée for the third time in less than an hour.
"When you asked me to marry you," Ellen replied, "you told me we belong together. And that's how we're going to stay — together."
A knock at the door made Carrie jump. Her heart began to race as Jackson turned to face them. "I doubt Marie will try anything with all four of us in the room, but if she did come to cause trouble, we need to be ready."
Carrie took a deep breath as he opened the front door to reveal Marie on the other side. She wore a black pea coat, her red hair tucked up underneath a ball cap. Without acknowledging Jackson, she strode inside and headed straight for Harris.
"Are you Harry Duncan, alias Harris Dodd?" Marie asked, stopping in front of him.
Harris rose to his feet. "Yes."
"I've got something for you." Marie reached inside the front pocket of her pea coat.
Carrie tensed as Jackson moved to Harris's side. But the only thing in Marie's hand was a piece of paper. More precisely, a check.
"What is this?" Harris asked, as Marie held it out to him.
"A gift," Marie replied. "From Mrs. Sam Campino."
Harris drew back. "So the Campino family did send you after me."
"Yes," Marie replied. "But not for the reason you think. Here." She pushed the check into his hand. "Take it."
His eyes widened. "It's made out for one million dollars."
"I've been hired to give you that check and a personal message from Mary Campino. You were instrumental in sending her husband of 35 years to jail. That was the day she regained her freedom from the most vicious man she's ever known."
Jackson's brow furrowed. "So she's giving Harris a reward?"
Marie turned to him. "Mary married Sam Campino when she was 17 years old. She had no idea of his criminal connections until it was too late. Divorce was not an option in that family. She lived a life of fear and abuse, watching helplessly as her sons were drawn into their father's criminal activities and their lives ruined. But she still has her grandchildren. Now that Sam Campino can no longer influence them, they have a chance for a good life."
"I had no idea," Harris murmured, still staring in disbelief at the check.
"She couldn't safely express her gratitude until after the death of her husband. It's taken me two years to find you."
Carrie stepped forward. "Why all the subterfuge? And why did you hire Jackson?"
"The feds don't like it when you try to find someone in their Witness Protection Program," Marie replied. "I'd asked a few too many questions along the way and raised their suspicions. So I hired Jackson to finish the legwork for me. I knew I was close. I realized how close when I finally saw the photos of Harris Dodd."
Ellen finally spoke. "You've been searching for Harris for two years?"
Marie nodded. "Mary Campino is my godmother. She made a promise to reward the man who freed her from marriage to a monster. I swore to help her keep that promise — no matter how long it took."
Harris looked up at her. "I don't know what to say."
"Don't say anything," Marie replied. "Just know that you have Mary Campino's eternal gratitude. And protection."
They watched silently as Marie turned and walked out the door. Then Ellen burst into tears and threw her arms around Harris. "Do you know what this means?"
"We don't have to go to Venezuela," Harris said, still obviously stunned. "No more running away."
"We can get married as planned," Ellen exclaimed, then turned to her daughter. "We can even make it a double wedding!"
"Mom," Carrie began, ready to explain about their fake engagement. But Jackson interrupted her.
"That's a wonderful idea," he said, circling his arm around Carrie's waist and propelling her into the next room. "Will you please excuse us for a moment?"
When they were alone, Carrie stared up at him. "Are you crazy?"
"Yes," he replied. "Crazy in love with you. Marry me, Carrie."
She drew in a quick breath, surprise mingling with desire. "But we hardly know each other."
"I know I've wanted you from the first day I heard your voice on the telephone."
She swallowed hard. "Me, too."
"Everything I’ve learned about you since then — your bravery, your love for your family — has just made me love you more. I believe in fate," he said, lowering his mouth to her lips. "I believe in us."
Then he kissed her and every lingering doubt in Carrie's head melted away. Her heart told her this was right. She and Jackson belonged together.
"Now," Jackson said, smiling down into Carrie’s upturned face, "let’s go share our happy news with your family."
"You mean our family," Carrie countered, grinning, feeling as if she
might burst from joy.
The End