Jilt Trip
Heather MacAllister

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

1

THE ORGAN PLAYED softly. Gardenias scented the air. The sunlight of a warm Galveston June day filtered through the stained-glass windows. Bridesmaids gathered in the vestibule of the church. Guests murmured in anticipation.

And the groom’s pager beeped. Again.

“Damn!” Carter Belden slapped the button in annoyance, then remembered the somber presence of the Reverend Royer waiting to lead him toward the altar. “I beg your pardon.”

Reverend Royer’s eyebrows knit together. “Perhaps you could, er, turn off the sound for the duration of the ceremony?”

“Of course,” Carter murmured. Glancing at the number on the pager’s display, he exhaled. “It’s my office. I’ll have to call in.”

“Mr. Belden!”

“My best man isn’t here yet,” he reminded the open-mouthed minister. “This could be from him.”

Reverend Royer shook back the sleeve of his robe and checked his watch. “He’d better hurry or he’ll miss the ceremony!”

“We’ve got a few more minutes, don’t we?”

“Y-yes, but—”

“Stall, if you have to.” Carter was already striding through the groom’s anteroom toward the church’s administration area.

Robe flapping, Reverend Royer hurried after him. “But what shall I tell the bride?”

His hand on the doorknob, Carter paused. “Tell Dee Ann it’s business. She’ll understand.”

Dee Ann might understand, but Carter didn’t. He’d always known he had a loyal and dedicated staff of fellow workaholics, but did they really expect him to conduct business moments before he took his place at the altar?

This had to be an emergency, but that’s what he’d thought the four other times they’d paged him this morning. He knew they weren’t thrilled about his marriage to the daughter of a business competitor, but they should come to the wedding anyway, damn it.

Saunders, at least, should be here. He was Carter’s lawyer, good friend and supposedly the best man.

Where was he?

Probably trying to persuade Nikki Morrison to come.

Slowing his pace, Carter visualized his petite dynamo of a comptroller, with her green eyes and the freckles that showed no matter how she tried to cover them up.

Ah, Nikki…Carter smiled. Well, maybe he could understand if Nikki didn’t want to come, though she’d seemed to accept his approaching nuptials with her usual calm professionalism.

Closing the glass door to the church reception area, Carter reached for the phone on the desk and quickly punched out the number. Through the intercom system, he could hear the organ music. It didn’t sound like the bridal march yet.

“Carter?”

It was Nikki’s voice, tense and breathless.

His collar suddenly felt tight. “What’s going on, Nikki? Where’s Saunders?”

“Are we too late?”

Carter exhaled through his teeth. “In three minutes, I’m supposed to be standing at the altar with Saunders. Where in the hell is he?” He winced and looked around to see if anyone had overheard. Apainting of an unknown saint stared at him reprovingly. Carter turned his back.

“Carter?” A different voice.

“Saunders? Where in the…world are you?”

“We’re in the car.” The lawyer sounded weary.

“Don’t start without us.” His chuckle fell flat.

At least Saunders hadn’t been in an accident. Yet. “It would serve you right if you did miss my wedding.”

“No!”

The chorus of no’s startled him. “Are Julian and Bob in the car with you?”

“Yes.” Nikki’s voice came through the wires again.

“But I saw Bob’s wife and kids here.” What was going on?

“Carter, wait for us. You’ve got to listen to what we’ve found.”

“This isn’t about your takeover—”

“Shh! We’re on the cellular.”

Carter clamped together his lips in frustration. Cellular phone conversations could be overheard by anyone with a radio and they all knew not to discuss business on one. It wasn’t like him to forget.

“Just wait until we get there,” Nikki pleaded. “I’ve got to talk with you before you marry Dee Ann.”

“She’s right,” Saunders broke in. “Don’t do anything before hearing us out.”

“This is unbelievable.”

Behind him, he heard a tapping sound on the glass windows. Turning, Carter saw Reverend Royer and Miss Hicks, the wedding coordinator. Both wore identical expressions of alarmed urgency.

Carter shrugged and pointed to the telephone. Miss Hicks opened the door. “Mr. Belden, we’re behind schedule.”

“Just a moment,” he murmured into the receiver. Mustering a soothing smile, Carter said to the coordinator, “Tell everyone I’ll pay for overtime.”

“Money isn’t the point, Mr. Belden. Time is.”

The corners of Carter’s smile drooped cynically. In his experience, money was usually the point. “Have the photographer take some more pictures of the blushing bride.” Dee Ann liked being photographed.

“He’s videotaping in the balcony.”

“He can’t be taping much without me, can he?”

Miss Hicks pursed her lips.

Carter tried another smile. “My best man is running late.”

“There are two weddings scheduled this afternoon after yours,” Reverend Royer informed him. “It is June, you know.”

“If you run late, they’ll run late,” Miss Hicks added.

Carter would have offered to pay for their overtime, as well, but he knew it wouldn’t matter. “Do you hear this, Nikki?” he asked into the phone.

“Tell them to start without you.”

“Very funny.”

“You’re doing a great job of stalling,” she said. “We’re just a few blocks away.”

“I’m hanging up the telephone now, Nikki. I’m turning off my pager. You’ve got ten minutes. No more.” He hung up the telephone.

“Ten minutes?” He smiled at the minister and the wedding consultant, who both looked at their watches, then at each other. They were starting to get on his nerves. It was his wedding, too. What were they going to do, hold the ceremony without him?

“I’ll inform the organist and Miss Karrenbrock.” Miss Hicks hurried into the bowels of the church.

Carter turned off his pager. Instantly, it beeped.

As he stared at it, Reverend Royer reached beneath his robe and smiled apologetically. “Mine this time, I’m afraid. As long as we’re waiting…?” He gestured toward the telephone and Carter stepped out of the way.

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his gray morning suit, Carter strolled back to the groom’s anteroom.

DeeAnn would be furious, though she’d never show it. A cool blond Texas belle, Dee Ann understood perfectly the relationship between men, business and the money to pay for designer clothes and personal trainers. It had been bred into her. The epitome of a corporate wife, she would never interfere in his business affairs.

But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t expect compensation for her tolerance.

Carter didn’t mind. It amused him to watch her try to manipulate him and to allow her small victories now and then.

He could afford them.

Marrying Dee Ann was the best idea he’d had in a long time. She would make a fabulous wife and that’s what he wanted: an old-fashioned arrangement where she managed home and hearth, and he concentrated on making the money to pay for it. Although he enthusiastically supported women’s rights, he also recognized that he couldn’t be the type of husband a career woman needed.

He’d tried it once already with disastrous results. With both partners concentrating on their careers, nobody concentrated on the marriage.

Carter wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

It wasn’t fair to ask a woman to give up her career, but Dee Ann made no secret that she considered marriage and community service a career. Carter admired her for her honesty. He also knew that they wouldn’t need a second income like many families. Dee Ann would find fulfillment in her work on the boards of various charities, and he was willing to support her endeavors. It was the perfect blending of needs and wants.

Yes, they’d have a good life together.

That is, if Saunders and the others ever got here.

Carter paced in front of the window of the small anteroom and forced himself not to look at his watch. He wanted to sit down, but that would wrinkle his suit. Instead, he checked his appearance in the wall mirror.

His boutonniere was wilting. He had no idea how the rest of him appeared. Of course, if his best man were here, he could tell him how he looked, straighten his cravat, make certain his pants cuffs weren’t turned up, that sort of thing.

The organist was playing something Carter had heard already. Thank heaven it wasn’t the processional.

He patted his pocket, reassured by the lump Dee Ann’s wedding ring made. How fortunate he’d decided to hold on to it since clearly Saunders’s skills as a best man left much to be desired.

“Carter? You in here?” Aflushed Saunders peered inside the room.

“Glad you could make it,” Carter drawled, to hide his relief.

“What is this place?” Saunders grimaced as he took in the room and its “furnishings.”

“The groom’s dressing area,” Carter told him with a sweep of his hand.

“They’ve stuck him back here in the storage room,” Saunders called over his shoulder. There were answering voices and then the door fully opened. Saunders entered, followed by Julian and Bob.

And Nikki.

Carter was unaccountably glad to see her. In spite of their turbulent history, they were friends and he valued that friendship—his only one with a woman.

“You had me worried, there.” Carter clasped Saunders on the shoulder. Everything would be fine now.

“We have to talk to you,” Nikki stated.

Carter nodded. Anything. “Let’s get this ceremony over with and I’ll slip away during the reception.” He pushed Saunders toward the door.

“Now,” Nikki ordered just as Saunders dug in his heels.

In surprise, Carter turned and saw that the others all wore grim expressions.

Clutching papers, Nikki walked toward him.

“Use the podium,” Saunders suggested, dragging one away from the wall.

“Julian—” Nikki nodded to him as she opened folders “—stand by the door.”

“Gotcha.” Julian opened it, and checked both directions before closing the door and leaning against it.

“What’s going on?” Carter demanded. They were starting to alarm him.

“Stock transactions,” Nikki told him.

“Not that again.” Carter felt his anger rise. All morning, they’d pestered him with their takeover theories.

“Look.” Bob, his chief accountant, adjusted his glasses and pointed to several columns of figures. “This is Belden Industries’ stock activity over the past two months compared with this same period last year.”

Carter glanced at the figures. “So? That doesn’t prove anything.” Carter looked at their unsmiling faces. Obviously, he’d have to study those figures at greater length. “Well, there’s certainly nothing there so startling that I’d have to postpone my wedding.”

“These are the buyers and sellers,” Bob continued as if Carter had said nothing.

“Your future father-in-law has bought a sizable chunk.” Nikki pointed to the entries under Karrenbrock Ventures.

Carter looked hard at her. “Again, so? I consider that a vote of confidence.”

Nikki exchanged a glance with Saunders.

“According to the prenuptial agreement, you promise to transfer ten percent of your holdings in Belden Industries to Dee Ann on condition of your marriage,” Saunders said.

He remembered that Saunders and Nikki had howled over that one. “You knew that long ago,” Carter said.

Nikki pointed to Bob’s figures. “Added to the Karrenbrock holdings, that ten percent would entitle them to a seat on the board of directors.”

Carter smiled. “I’m putting the stock in Dee Ann’s name. It’ll still be in the family.”

Nikki’s eyes widened and Carter felt a pang of guilt. Stressing Dee Ann’s new status was too harsh, he supposed, but they were interrupting his wedding, damn it.

Saunders cleared his throat. “It would be considered Dee Ann’s separate property—hers to do with as she pleases.”

“And there’s nothing to stop her from selling her share to her father,” Julian said from his post at the door. “Should he choose to exercise his rights, Karrenbrock would be in a position to seriously weaken Belden Industries.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Carter insisted.

“Or,” Nikki said, “her father could give her his holdings.”

Carter hadn’t considered that. “And I bet that’s exactly what he’s going to do!” he said. “A wedding gift. I’ve been trying to buy back some Belden stock.”

They looked unconvinced.

Carter spread his hands. “Look.” He forced a light laugh. His friends’ grim faces were more appropriate for a funeral than a wedding. “Dee Ann has no interest in business.” He directed his next remarks to Nikki. “She’s not like you.”

Nikki tilted her chin up. “So I’ve been told.”

Meeting her stare, it occurred to Carter that she wasn’t taking his marriage as well as he’d thought.

“Okay. I’ll concede that you all have legitimate concerns.” Relief flickered across their faces. “Let’s go have a wedding and we’ll discuss it later.”

“It’ll be too late then!” Saunders sounded panicked.

Ignoring him, Carter searched the pile of empty dry-cleaning bags and various wrappings on the ancient sofa, located the best man’s boutonniere and removed the plastic. The carnation was still fresh. “Hold this.” He handed the flower to Bob, unpinned his own and thrust it at Nikki. “Pin that on Saunders, would you?”

“But…you can’t still be going through with the wedding after what we’ve discovered?”

“Careful with that,” Carter advised himself as he pinned on the fresh carnation. Saunders should be doing this. Or Nikki.

“There’s something else,” Nikki added with an edge of desperation in her voice.

When Carter heard it, he felt a surge of pride. Their concern for his company went far beyond that of mere employees. They considered it their company, too.

However, he reminded himself abruptly, it wasn’t their company and this nonsense had to stop. “Later.”

“No!” Nikki gripped his arm on one side, Saunders on the other.

“Hey! You’ll wrinkle my jacket.”

“Carter.” Bob opened more folders. “Karrenbrock Ventures owns Lacefield Foods. Two weeks ago, Lacefield bought stock in Belden Industries.”

That caught his attention. “Let me see that.” Carter took the folder from his chief accountant and scanned the information. Sighing, he handed it back. “It isn’t much.”

“Not by itself,” Bob admitted. “But I suspect that more of the companies in these files are subsidiaries of Karrenbrock Ventures.”

“It’s a bad time to be signing away ten percent of your holdings,” Julian said.

Carter studied the faces of his trusted employees and friends. Julian, his executive vice president, the unflappable connoisseur of art and women. Bob, the balding accountant. The always-anxious Saunders, and Nikki…

She held her body stiffly and had a death grip on the files. There was something in her expression that went beyond concern for the welfare of Belden Industries. Carter stared at her the longest, compelled by the intensity of her gaze and the…panic? That didn’t make sense. It was as if she was willing him to postpone his wedding.

A smile of regret pulled at his lips. Our time has come and gone, kid. If they’d been alone, he would have said it aloud.

Addressing the group, he asked, “So, on the basis of one company’s buying an insignificant amount of stock, you want me to call off my wedding?”

Everyone looked at one another. Nikki spoke.

“Just postpone it until we can determine exactly how much stock Karrenbrock controls and through what companies.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

She shook her head. “He’ll make his move on Monday, while you’re on your honeymoon. By the time you figure out what’s happened, it’ll be too late to counter.”

“That’s absurd.” But he could tell the others agreed with her.

“No, it’s perfect,” she persisted. “Who’d suspect it?”

“He’s going to be my father-in-law!” Carter stared at them. Obviously, Nikki had managed to convince everyone to see things her way. “It doesn’t make sense. Why would he do that to me?”

Julian shrugged. “Probably because he can.”

“Karrenbrock is ruthless, but humiliate his daughter’s husband?” Carter shook his head. “Dee Ann would never forgive him.”

“She’s probably in on it,” Nikki retorted.

Carter felt like ripping their papers apart. Instead, he gripped the edge of the podium. “You’re angry because I’m giving her ten percent, aren’t you?”

“You’re still vulnerable, even without giving Dee Ann ten percent,” she replied.

“I did advise against selling stock to finance that oil drilling project,” Bob piped up in an I-told-you-so tone.

“And I relayed your concerns to Carter,” Nikki assured him, “along with my own.”

Bob addressed Carter. “Perhaps she didn’t emphasize—”

Carter glared him back into silence.

“The minister’s coming,” Julian said seconds before Reverend Royer sailed into the room.

“Mr. Belden…and best man?”

“Here!” Saunders stepped forward, holding the battered carnation.

“Saunders!” Nikki hissed.

“Let’s go.” Carter moved forward.

“Carter!” Nikki shrieked.

Everyone froze.

Nikki had gone white, and her freckles stood out like the cinnamon on Carter’s morning cappuccino. She hadn’t accepted that he was marrying Dee Ann. His heart twisted for her.

“Could we have a few more minutes?” he asked the minister.

“Young man.” Reverend Royer inhaled deeply. “Miss Karrenbrock is waiting in the vestibule with her bridesmaids. The organist has repeated “Sheep May Safely Graze” no less than five times. Miss Hicks is bemoaning a melting ice sculpture and the candles are beginning to drip. May I suggest you conduct your business at a later time?”

Carter gritted his teeth. “Why don’t you start without me, then?” He heard a strangled sound from Nikki’s direction and didn’t dare look at her.

“I’ll be praying for you in the antechamber.” Reverend Royer piously withdrew.

“Now look what you’ve done!” Carter rounded on Nikki. “I’ve insulted a man of God!”

“Nikki,” Saunders began, “just tell—”

She held up her hand. “If—if you’re determined to go through with this marriage—”

“I am.”

“Then I’d like to propose a toast,” she announced. Julian handed her a bottle of champagne. The cork had already been popped.

“You have all lost your minds,” Carter said in amazement.

Saunders solemnly produced paper cups and handed him one.

“You can’t seriously think I’d greet my bride with alcohol on my breath!” No one met his eyes. “It’s not even a good vintage.”

“Well, she didn’t want to ruin—ow!” Julian broke off.

“Sorry.” Nikki, the bottle shaking slightly, poured a little champagne into each cup. When she reached Carter, she filled his to the brim.

“So is this your new plan?” He tapped the cup. “Get me drunk and I won’t go through with the wedding?”

Everyone stared at his own cup.

They were so transparent, Carter thought. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Gazing at them defiantly, Carter held his cup aloft. “To Dee Ann Karrenbrock, may she prove you all wrong.” He drained his cup in a single gulp. The domestic champagne tasted even worse than he’d expected. It wasn’t like Julian to select something so inferior.

Didn’t Julian, one of his best friends, think Carter’s bride was worth a toast with the finest champagne?

Lowering the cup, Carter was immediately aware that no one had drunk with him. His face heated with anger at the insult.

His eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you going to propose a toast to my happiness, N-Nikki?” His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Nasty vile stuff. He thrust out his cup, anyway.

Nikki clutched the bottle so tightly, her knuckles were white.

“More,” he commanded.

Nikki filled his cup.

No one said anything.

“I’m waiting.”

“May you find happiness in spite of yourself,” she said, her eyes mocking him as he quaffed his drink.

The second cup went straight to his head. Carter clutched the podium as the room wobbled. Damn cheap champagne.

“Carter?” Two Nikkis spoke to him. He closed his eyes. One Nikki was more than enough.

“’S hot.” He tried to loosen his collar, but the pearl stickpin got in the way.

Saunders took his arm. “Do you want to sit down?”

Irritated, Carter shook off his lawyer’s hand. “Wrinkle my panths.” Oh, great. His tongue was swollen. How could he recite his vows? Maybe if he practiced.

“I, Cawtuh, take thee, Dee Ann, do be mah lawfoolly weddud wahf…”

“What’s he saying?”

“Shh.”

Water. He needed water. Cold water would shrink his tongue and cool his burning face. He took a step backward and the room tilted, then began a slow spin.

Drunk?

Dee Ann would be livid.

“Not dunk,” he muttered. Not on two paper cups of champagne.

“Carter, sit down.” Saunders urged him in the other direction.

“No.” He closed his eyes against the spinning room and concentrated on putting one foot directly in front of the other. He would stand in front of that altar. He would marry Dee Ann…

“Carter! Carter…Car-ter…Caaaaarterrrr…”

The sound came from all around him. He took another step and missed the floor.

Clawing at air, he landed on his knee, then fell prone.

His boutonniere would be completely crushed. Trying to save it, he rolled over and opened his eyes. Four anxious faces peered down at him. Four anxious and guilty faces.

He was the only one on the floor.

Black ringed his vision as the faces receded down a tunnel.

Realization struck. “Dug! You…dug me.” He tried to point, but his arm was too heavy to lift.

A cool hand touched his forehead. Huge green eyes filled his vision. From a distance, he heard, “Trust me.”

Through sheer force of will, Carter managed a reply as darkness overtook him. “Fahd! Yoo awl fahd!”

2

“FIRED? Fired? I heard him say fired.” Saunders shredded what was left of the carnation. “He fired us, didn’t he?”

Nikki sat back on her heels. “Sure sounded like it.”

“Oh, no, oh, no,” Bob, the chief accountant, groaned. “I’m refinancing my mortgage. I can’t refinance if I’m out of work. And I’ve got to lock in my rates!” He grabbed Julian’s arm. “This might cost me as much as one and a half percentage points!”

Julian clamped a hand on the accountant’s shoulder. “Carter’s drunk. The man can’t make valid business decisions when he’s drunk.”

“You know he’s not drunk!” Bob said in disbelief.

“I don’t know anything of the kind.” Julian, his hand still on Bob’s shoulder, hustled him toward the door.

Bob’s eyes bulged. “But…but—”

“It isn’t uncommon for a groom to take something to calm his nerves,” Julian stated, calmly brushing away the wrinkles Bob had left on the arm of his perfectly cut suit. “He probably shouldn’t have had alcohol with it, though.”

“But—”

“Bob.” Nikki cut him off. She signaled Julian with a jerk of her head.

He opened the door. “Did you actually see anything unusual prior to Carter’s drinking the champagne, Bob?”

“No, but—”

“Neither did we,” Julian said as they left the room.

“Remind me not to involve Bob in any more high-level management decisions,” Nikki muttered.

“They’re coming back, aren’t they?” Saunders began to hyperventilate.

She eyed him with dismay. “Not you, too?”

Saunders threw away the remnants of his boutonniere. “Why couldn’t you have just told him?”

Nikki looked down at Carter and brushed a strand of hazel hair off his forehead. She knew his eyes, if they were open, would match. She’d always thought it an extremely attractive combination.

“Nikki?” Saunders squatted beside her.

She sighed. “He wouldn’t have believed me.”

“I would have backed you up.”

“You’re backing me up now,” she said ruefully. “Besides, I didn’t want anyone else to know.”

“You mean…you mean, even Julian doesn’t know?”

Nikki shook her head.

“How did you talk him into this?”

“With Julian, it’s all a matter of approach. I believe he was dating DeeAnn and introduced her to Carter. She immediately dropped Julian and went on to bigger game.”

“And now he’s getting even. I thought he bought into our takeover theory too fast.”

Nikki reached out and gripped Saunders’s hand. “It’ll be okay. Carter will be mad, but I know if you keep digging, you’ll find that Karrenbrock is planning a takeover, outrageous as it sounds.”

Saunders nodded miserably. “How long do you think he’ll be out?”

“I have no idea.” Nikki eyed Carter, half afraid he’d come to. “They were your sleeping pills.”

Moaning, Saunders held his head in his hands. A lock of hair slipped, revealing a bald spot. “He’ll have us arrested.”

“He’ll give us a bonus.”

“I’ll be disbarred.”

“You’ll receive an official commendation.”

“He won’t let me be best man.”

Nikki glared at Saunders’ hangdog face. “Do you really think he’ll marry Dee Ann after this? Even when…everything’s clear?” She refused to consider it. As far as Nikki was concerned, this engagement was kaput. Eventually, perhaps within the next decade, Carter would thank them all.

She loosened Carter’s collar and felt his pulse. Slow and steady. Strong. His breathing was fine. He probably wouldn’t be out too long.

A single knock sounded at the door. Julian pushed a wheelchair inside and quickly glanced up and down the hallway. “No sign of the good reverend.”

“Where’s Bob?” Nikki caught the rose-decorated afghan Julian tossed to her.

“In the car.”

“He’s not going to drive, is he?” she asked.

“Hardly. He’s asking for the champagne.” Julian inhaled deeply. “I just may give it to him.”

“Which reminds me.” Nikki got to her feet and gathered the paper cups and bottle, emptying the contents in the nearest potted greenery. “This will liven up their drab lives.”

“Uh, Nikki?” Saunders pointed to a growing puddle. “That’s a fake plant.”

“At least she can’t kill it,” Julian said.

“Don’t say that word!” Saunders pleaded.

“Will you two please get Carter in the wheelchair!” Nikki closed her eyes and reined in her temper. Criminal masterminds they were not. “Everything is going to be fine.”

“I’ll find something to clean up the mess,” Saunders offered, carefully avoiding Carter’s comatose form.

Ultimately, it took Nikki’s help to maneuver Carter’s heavy, limp body into the wheelchair.

“Julian, see if there’s a back way out.” Nikki arranged the afghan around Carter, concealing everything but his shoes. Then she tied a scarf around his head, Russian peasant style.

“What do you think?” She pulled a few tendrils over his forehead and stepped back.

Saunders looked doubtful. Well, it was too late to quit now.

A tight-faced Julian returned. “There’s a back exit, but it would mean wheeling him around on the sidewalk.”

“Better than wheeling him through the front of the church,” Nikki decided. “Is the coast clear?”

“I’m just about finished here.” Saunders swiped at the puddle with something Nikki thought looked horribly like a child’s choir robe.

“You are finished.”

Saunders dropped the white cloth as though it had burnt him.

It was eerily quiet, with nothing but the occasional squeak of the wheels accompanying them as they maneuvered Carter down the hall. About the time Nikki pinpointed what was different, the organ began playing again.

The majestic sound reverberated in the empty halls.

Nikki gasped. “It’s ‘Trumpet Voluntary’!”

“So?” Julian said over his shoulder.

“That’s usually the processional music!” Nikki stopped and listened.

“Hurry up!” Saunders urged, his voice cracking. The pressure was obviously getting to him.

“I don’t like the sound of this,” she said to Julian. The music continued. “You go on ahead.”

“What?” Saunders screeched as Julian pulled him along. “She can’t abandon us!”

Nikki ignored him and ran in the other direction. She passed by the groom’s dressing room and reached the antechamber in time to see Reverend Royer swish through the paneled door.

Good. Maybe he’d stop the organist.

She waited several seconds, breathing quickly.

The music swelled.

Nikki made her way down the dark labyrinthine hallway toward a stream of light seeping from under a door. The music grew fainter. Holding her breath, she stopped in front of the door and slowly cracked it open, hoping it wasn’t the sanctuary.

No noise came from inside the room. Nikki pushed the door open farther. She had an impression of peach and blue, with a large mirror surrounded by lights. The scent of perfume and hair spray hung in the air. Plastic clothes bags, tissue paper and other wedding residue littered the sofa.

This was the bride’s room.

And it was empty.

“Oh, my God!” she whispered. “They are starting without him!”

Hurling herself toward the door across the room, Nikki yanked it open and found herself in the church vestibule.

As she stared, one taffeta-clad bridesmaid began the hesitation step.

Left standing at the entrance was the maid of honor.

And the bride on the arm of her father.

An icy, regal beauty, Dee Ann looked lovely. Her blond hair was upswept and her dress was a stark column of beaded satin. A cathedral train swirled behind her.

Nikki almost felt sorry for her. Dee Ann had obviously decided that the sound of the wedding music would bring Carter to the altar.

How could Nikki stop this? What could she say? For one hysterical moment, she thought about blurting out the truth, but no one would believe her.

Frankly, she found it hard to believe herself.

A small woman dressed in black fussed with the bride’s train. No doubt the wedding coordinator or her assistant.

Nikki hissed and beckoned, but the woman ignored her. Creeping forward, Nikki tried again. “I have to talk with you!”

The wedding coordinator, her mouth set in a reproving O flitted toward her. “Shush! We’re taping.”

The music grew louder and the maid of honor hugged Dee Ann before starting down the aisle.

This was awful. Surely they’d noticed that Carter wasn’t there yet?

“You’ve got to stop her!” Nikki implored the woman.

“I’ll do no such thing!”

Nikki lunged toward Dee Ann.

The woman, surprisingly strong for her size, restrained her.

The organ swelled and Dee Ann stepped over the threshold as Nikki watched in horror. “No! The groom isn’t there!”

“What are you, hon, an ex-girlfriend?”

Ex. If only she were. “I—he…he’s sick.”

“What do you mean, sick?”

“He suddenly collapsed and…appendicitis, I think.”

The woman’s fingers dug into Nikki’s arms and her face whitened.

“Tell Dee Ann not to worry.” Nikki pried the coordinator’s fingers off her arm. “We’ve taken him to get medical attention. But…” Trailing off, Nikki pointed to the empty doorway.

With a screech, the woman whirled through it.

Nikki didn’t stay to see the disaster unfold. Running down the gray marble steps of the church, she hurried toward one of the three limousines parked in front.

“Did you stop her in time?” Julian asked and opened the car door.

Gasping for breath, Nikki shook her head as she climbed in.

“Oh, boy.” Opposite her, a sweating Saunders supported a still-unconscious Carter.

“Oh, boy?” Bob’s voice cracked from the front seat. “That’s all you have to say? After…after…” He buried his head on his knees.

Julian slammed the driver’s-side door and put the car in gear. Nikki swiveled toward him and placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Is Bob up to this?” she asked in a low voice.

Julian shrugged.

With raised eyebrows, Nikki nodded to a quiet Saunders. Shaking his head, Julian rolled his eyes.

Bob moaned.

Nikki reached a decision she hoped she wouldn’t regret. “Bob, why don’t you stay here and go home with your wife and kids. We need someone to tell us what happens.”

“Lucky stiff,” Saunders muttered.

“Thank you.” Bob sounded so pathetically grateful that Nikki regretted involving him. But he’d been the first one to notice something amiss. He deserved the credit.

Not that he wanted credit for everything they’d done today, she supposed, watching as the mild-mannered accountant scrambled out of the car, bumping his head in his haste.

It would be all right. Nikki planned to take sole responsibility, even if she had to lie to protect the others, though she doubted it would come to that.

Carter could be reasonable, she thought, glancing at his sleeping face. And unreasonable, though she’d seen more of that side than the others had.

Bob slammed the door and without looking back, ran toward the church steps.

Nikki relaxed against the plush seat as Julian pulled away from the curb.

“Think he’ll crack?” Saunders asked, looking as though he, himself, was considering it.

Nikki shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I won’t let him take any blame. He wasn’t that involved.”

Saunders sighed. “You know, it might not be up to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve broken some laws here.”

Nikki chewed on the inside of her cheek. “Which ones?”

Saunders gaped at her. “Kidnapping comes to mind.”

She gestured to the sleeping Carter. “He fell ill and we’re seeking medical attention.”

Julian snorted. “The real crime is bottling that bilge and calling it champagne.”

Saunders threw up his hands in a gesture of frustration and Carter shifted at the movement, his breath fluttering the ends of the scarf.

“I think we can take the scarf off his head now.” Nikki tugged on the knot. “Did you have any trouble?” She’d been afraid to ask.

“Nah.” Julian signaled a right turn. “We told the other drivers that the old lady snored when she was asleep.”

Old lady. Nikki grinned.

Saunders appeared to have calmed down. “Was it really bad back there, Nikki?”

“Yes.” She stared out the tinted window, seeing not the lush palms lining the boulevard, or the restored Victorian houses, but Dee Ann standing in the church, waiting to walk down the aisle.

“How…how far…?”

Nikki knew what Saunders was trying to ask. There was breathless silence in the car. “She was walking down the aisle before I finally got the coordinator to listen to me. After that, I ran.”

“Good call.” Julian’s eyes met hers in the rearview mirror.

Saunders looked over at her. “What did you say to her?”

What had she told that woman? “That Carter was sick. I might have mentioned appendicitis.”

“Appendicitis?” he asked sharply.

Nikki shrugged. “It was the only emergency disease I could think of.”

“Hmm.”

“That’ll let Dee Ann save face at least,” Julian commented as he turned onto Seawall Boulevard.

After that, no one said much.

Nikki stared out the car window as mile after mile of Galveston Island rolled past. The bright midday sun reflected off the murky Gulf of Mexico. Drilling rigs speckled the horizon and sea gulls circled the beach, looking for food scraps among the trash.

Against her will, she recalled the countless times she’d made this same drive with Carter to the same destination: their boat, the Honey Bee.

The happiest moments of their brief time together had been spent on the Honey Bee. They would leave Belden Industries behind, sometimes without warning, without planning. Carter would appear in the door of her office with a look she immediately recognized and she’d turn off her computer, grab her purse and meet him at the elevator.

The Honey Bee had no telephone. No fax machine. A radio and portable television, yes, but they didn’t watch much TV. Life was slow. Simple.

They were together and it was enough.

She gazed at the man sleeping next to Saunders.

Carter was driven to succeed and his successes were never enough. As soon as he’d conquer one goal, he’d set himself another.

And Nikki had been right there beside him. She’d been fascinated by him, by his single-minded devotion to the business he’d built. The problem, she knew now, was that there had been too much hero worship on her part. After a while, the very qualities which had drawn her to him, pushed her away.

He hadn’t changed. She had.

But now, she suspected he’d changed, too. There had been a time when he wouldn’t have hesitated to call off a wedding for a lot less evidence than Nikki and the others had gathered. Belden Industries was everything to him and he was everything to it. Without Carter Belden as its head, Belden Industries wouldn’t survive.

Carter Belden worked for no man—or woman. If Victor Karrenbrock gained controlling interest, Carter would walk away, but would leave his essence behind.

A shiver prickled her skin. Today, she would have acted exactly the same even without the other…complication Saunders had discovered.

“Which way?” Julian broke into her thoughts.

“Left at the entrance to Dolphin Bay.”

Sand dusted the edges of the two-lane road. Rusty mailboxes lined the entrance to the small beach house neighborhood. Street signs were carved into bleached gray wood. Everything looked the same as it always had.

Nikki felt hot, even inside the air-conditioned car. They were overdressed for the beach, and she couldn’t wait to climb aboard the Honey Bee and slip into her swimsuit.

The road deteriorated the closer to the beach they traveled. Several children dragging neon-bright beach towels stopped to gawk as the black limousine prowled their street.

“Turn on Conch,” she said.

Julian wrestled the big car around the corner, the wheels momentarily sinking into the soft sand. With a lurch, the car popped back onto the road. Nikki sighed.

And there it was—the Honey Bee, still berthed in the private cove she leased from a beach-house owner who wasn’t interested in boating.

Julian pulled the car as close to the dock as he could and stopped.

With the air conditioner no longer running, the interior of the car quickly became like a sauna.

“Now what?” Saunders asked when Nikki made no move to get out.

“I don’t know,” she answered, at a loss for the first time since the close of business yesterday, suddenly realizing that it was a Saturday in late June. The height of tourist season. And tourists abounded aplenty.

Why hadn’t she foreseen this? She’d driven straight into a casual beach-house community in a black limousine. And she was about to have two formally dressed men carry an unconscious groom aboard a boat.

And nobody would notice?

“Nikki?”

“I’m thinking.”

Julian turned and faced her. Both men waited.

Why did she have to make all the decisions? “Well.” She eyed the curious beach goers and made up her mind.

“My dear granny from the old country has come to pay a visit.” Nikki tied the scarf around Carter’s head again.

“Hey, it worked before,” she said when Saunders and Julian exchanged a look. “Release the trunk, Julian.”

Opening the car door to a blast of heat, Nikki climbed out, wincing as her black patent pumps sank into the dry sand. Removing the folded wheelchair from the trunk, she struggled to pull it apart.

Sand sifted into her shoes. Sweat dampened the silk blouse beneath her black suit. She’d worn black on purpose. Somehow, the occasion had called for it. But now, with the sun blazing on her back, she regretted it.

Besides, they all looked like gangsters.

The wheelchair ready, she tried to push it toward the open door of the limousine. The wheels sank. And this was without Carter’s weight. She sighed. Kidnapping Carter had seemed so simple this morning.

Julian leaned an elbow against the car. Saunders fussed with the afghan.

Carter’s face turned ruddy and sweat dampened the hair over his forehead.

“This isn’t going to work,” Julian said in a low voice. “How are we going to get him into the wheelchair with everybody watching?”

“Can’t we just slide him in?”

“He’s supposed to be an old woman.” Saunders joined them at the door. “We have to treat him with respect. We can’t haul him around like a side of beef.”

Nikki pushed the chair as close to the open door as she could. “I’ll block the view from this side. You and Julian get him in as best you can.”

Grumbling, they tugged, pulled and slid Carter into the wheelchair. Nikki tried to keep him covered.

The wheels stuck in the sand. They all stared.

Julian sighed and raked a hand through his hair.

Saunders scanned the distant horizon. “What’s happened to me? I had a nice life. I had a job that didn’t bore me and supported me in the style I desire.” He wiped his forehead. “And what do I do? Why, I drug and kidnap my boss, of course. Then I stick him in the sand to roast like a pig at a luau!”

Carter turned his head in the first sign of recovering consciousness. Three soft gasps were carried away on the gentle beach breeze.

“Doomed.” Saunders slumped against the car.

“We’re all doomed.”

“Nonsense.” Nikki grabbed hold of the wheelchair handles and tugged. “C’mon. The three of us should be able to move this thing.”

They managed—barely. Nikki expected to hear police sirens at any moment. As they bumped along the wooden pier, Carter moaned.

They walked faster and pushed him up the ramp onto the Honey Bee and out of sight.

Once on board, the men slung Carter onto the berth in the master stateroom and Julian ran back to the limo for supplies.

In the pilothouse, Nikki started the engine and checked to see that the radio worked. She let out a breath in relief. From here on out, it should be smooth sailing—at least for the Honey Bee.

“Nikki?” Saunders stuck his head in. “You’re going to have to tell him.”

She knew. “Let me handle Carter. You work on the legal end.”

“All right, then. Speaking as an attorney, I’d advise you not to venture into international waters.”

“I’ve got to sail out far enough so Carter won’t jump overboard and try to swim back.”

Saunders gave her a stern lawyer-look. Nikki didn’t like his stern lawyer-looks. Saunders, surprisingly, made a very intimidating lawyer. It must be something about the contrast in personae.

“We don’t know if the Karrenbrocks will call the police,” he warned. “We don’t know who thought we looked suspicious here at the beach and called the authorities.”

Nikki rolled her eyes. “Any rational person would think we looked suspicious.”

Julian was back on board. “I stowed everything below. Looks like you’re all set.”

“The papers?”

“Right here.” He tapped a leather briefcase. “We’re going to keep digging. You work on Carter.”

Nikki shivered.

“I know,” Saunders said with a gentle touch to her arm. “Don’t worry. Check in at eighteen hundred hours. We’ll be standing by.”

She nodded, loathe to see them leave. Both men had shed their jackets and she did likewise, peeling the black gabardine off her sweaty blouse.

They checked in on Carter one last time. He had slipped back into a deep motionless sleep.

“Looks like he’ll be out a while yet,” Julian said. “At least long enough for you to get away from shore.”

Nikki drew a deep breath and nodded.

Julian grinned. “Well, then. Bon voyage.”

She watched as he and Saunders walked down the ramp, jackets slung over their shoulders. They reached the bottom, cast off the ropes and waved.

Nikki waved back, then shoved the throttle into reverse.

The Honey Bee drifted away from the dock and for the first time in three years, seven months and twenty-two days, Nikki was completely alone with Carter Belden.

Her husband.

3

THE HAPPIEST TIMES of Carter’s life were spent aboard the Honey Bee with Nikki. Just heading south in the car was enough to loosen the kinks in his shoulders. Inhaling the salty air cleared his mind, the feel of gritty warm sand underneath his feet lowered his blood pressure. As the sun beat on his head, stress evaporated, leaving him pleasantly sleepy.

As soon as the Honey Bee was under way, he’d indulge himself in a nap, leaving Nikki at the helm.

Rocked to sleep by the waves of the Gulf of Mexico, Carter always fell into a deep, healing slumber, leaving his well-being in Nikki’s capable hands.

He trusted her as he’d trusted no other person. With Nikki, he shared his life and his dreams. When he needed her, she was there for him. Always. Without question.

Ah, Nikki. Just the thought of her filled an emptiness in his life that he hadn’t realized was there. He couldn’t remember the time before Nikki.

He inhaled with a sigh, reassured by the familiar faint musty smell of the Honey Bee’s bedding. Nikki combated mildew with the fervor of a religious zealot, but never completely obliterated it, despite her best efforts.

They so seldom had the opportunity to air the bedding in the master stateroom because it was frequently in use. Once he was in Nikki’s arms, he forgot everything but her touch, her scent and her taste. Smiling, Carter burrowed deeper into the pillow.

He supposed they could have adjourned to the guest cabin in the bow on occasion, but it was subject to the movement of the boat more than the master stateroom and not nearly as restful. Not that they rested all that much.

Shifting on the berth, Carter sniffed. Nothing from the galley. Nikki must not have started dinner yet.

He visualized her standing barefoot in the galley, wearing a swimsuit top and cutoff jeans. Her skin would be lightly tanned a peachy bronze, liberally sprinkled with freckles in spite of all the sun block she slathered over her body.

He’d come to depend on Nikki’s instantaneous transformation from business partner to domestic goddess. The boat was always stocked. He’d asked her once how she managed to have fresh lettuce, rib-eye steaks and whole milk for his coffee. She told him she always kept provisions in the office refrigerator, rotating them so she and Carter could leave at a moment’s notice.

He was grateful, he truly was. He should dictate a memo reminding himself to tell her so. Where was his tape recorder? He tried to search the shelf above the berth, but his arms wouldn’t cooperate. They were so heavy…

Lulled by the hum of the generator, Carter drifted back to sleep. Strange dreams disturbed him. Nikki didn’t look like Nikki anymore. Her hair was blond instead of chestnut brown. Her eyes were blue instead of ocean green. Her skin was tan and she’d finally managed to get rid of her freckles.

He’d liked her freckles. He’d made several attempts to count them all, but was usually interrupted. An interruption would be welcome now, as a matter of fact. Very welcome.

He waited and the dreams continued, shrouded in swirling white. Nikki in a wedding dress. But Nikki hadn’t worn a traditional wedding dress.

Flowers. Nikki had worn mostly flowers. White roses.

Carter smiled, then frowned. Roses were bad, he remembered, but didn’t remember why.

In his dreams, he tried to ask the shadowy figures, but no one would tell him. It gave him a headache, though that could have been from the noise. He didn’t remember all this humming and pounding on the boat before. Was the beating of his heart sounding in his head?

Maybe if he lay very still, the noise would stop. But stillness was relative, he discovered. Though he didn’t move, his body experienced a gentle up-and-down sway. A relentless, never-ending sway.

Carter swallowed, his mouth dry and cottony. He wanted a drink of water, but his stomach immediately rebelled. Hunger…no, seasickness. Seasick? Carter Belden was never seasick.

He would will this away. He visualized a grilled rib eye, charred on the outside, bloodred on the inside—and was immediately sorry.

What had happened to his sea legs, or rather his sea stomach? Just how long had it been since he and Nikki had been aboard the Honey Bee? Weeks? Months?

Years. The knowledge came to him accompanied by a great sadness. Something had kept him away from the boat. So why was he aboard it now? He cracked open his eyes just enough to see yellow and closed them again. Yes, he was aboard the Honey Bee.

But he didn’t remember getting to the boat. In fact, the last thing he remembered was…

“Nikki!” he bellowed, to his instant regret.

Pain ripped through his head and exploded behind his eyes with such ferocity that he actually opened them to verify that he still had his sight.

He wished he hadn’t. The hideous decorating scheme Nikki had chosen for the craft—black, yellow and white stripes—assaulted his vision.

Head throbbing anew, he shut his eyes against the garish yellow walls Nikki thought would add light to the cabins below deck.

He’d indulged her because they were newly married and because the wall covering, yards and yards of it, was fabric, not vinyl. But instead of disintegrating the way he’d expected—and hoped—the heavy canvas had worn like iron.

She’d even had matching swimsuits sewn out of the leftovers, for God’s sake. He’d refused to wear his in spite of the hurt looks she’d cast him.

He’d given her a little diamond bee pin to make up for it.

He hadn’t seen her wear it in a very long time.

“Carter?” Nikki’s voice sounded above him.

“Go away and let me die in peace.”

“Hold these.”

He felt her take his hand and plop something into his palm. “Does this involve putting anything in my stomach?”

“Aspirin.”

“Forget it.”

“Carter, having a headache is normal. Aspirin will help.”

“Normal? You drugged me.”

“Yes.”

“There’s nothing normal about drugging someone. Therefore, the resulting headache is abnormal.”

“Impeccable logic. You’re right, as usual,” she agreed, cheerfully unrepentant.

“Ha!” He groaned. Being right hurt his head.

“Take the aspirin, Carter.”

Moaning piteously, he struggled to sit up. Leaning against the bulkhead, he blindly shoved the pills into his mouth. Nikki practically drowned him with the glass of water. Justice would only be served if he puked all over her, he thought, managing to swallow the pills.

They sloshed around in his stomach as he tried to counter the movement of the boat. “What are we in, a hurricane?” he grumbled.

“No, seas are calm.” Nikki maintained that irritatingly serene voice adopted by those who were dealing with grouchy people.

He opened his eyes. The room spun, but he focused on the waistband of her shorts, then tilted his head back and squinted at her.

Kneeling, she tugged away his bow tie and unbuttoned his collar button. She had started on the second button, when he covered her hands with his.

She raised her eyes and he was hit by the force of her green gaze. His pulse drummed in his ears as she awakened feelings long dormant, feelings he thought were dead, not just asleep.

Feelings he had no right to be feeling.

“I’ll be right back,” she whispered, rocking back on her heels and withdrawing her hands all in one graceful movement. She disappeared out the doorway, returning within moments.

“Don’t walk so loud,” he mumbled.

Nikki sat on the edge of the berth, doing horrid things to his equilibrium. “Sip some of this. You need lots of liquids.”

She wrapped his hands around a warm mug and, only because he knew she’d nag until he cooperated, Carter brought it to his lips.

“Good God almighty, what’s this?”

“Defatted chicken broth,” she replied in that same conciliatory voice. “It’s good for you.”

He rolled gritty eyes toward her. “You’ve shanghaied me. Don’t pretend you’re concerned about my health.”

Her lips drew together in a thin line, her most unattractive expression. “It’s your own fault. I had no idea you had become the sort of man who would guzzle champagne moments before he was to walk down the aisle.”

“I was provoked. Set up.” Since there was nothing else, he drank more broth. Not bad. In fact, the rancid taste was beginning to leave his mouth. He swallowed again, noting that he didn’t feel as queasy. The stuff even muffled the drums in his head, allowing a few thoughts to filter through. “I’m not too clear on recent events. Am I married?”

Nikki gazed at him steadily. “It’s a little complicated, but, yes. You are most definitely married.”

“Damn.” Carter drained the last of the chicken broth. “I don’t remember the ceremony. I do remember passing out,” he said sternly. “I don’t remember when I came to. What did I do then, dance on the pews? Insult the bride’s mother?”

Nikki avoided his eyes as she took the mug.

That was a very bad sign. “If I’m married, what am I doing here? Where’s Dee Ann? Is she topside?”

“No.”

“Still at the reception?”

“I doubt it.”

He tried to visualize Dee Ann in her wedding dress and couldn’t. Another bad sign. “What have you done to her?”

Nikki glared at him. “Nothing.”

He folded his arms and focused his eyes until her two images merged into one. “All right, Nikki. Talk.”

Her gaze turned wary, her eyes assessing his mood.

His mood was black, but what did she expect? Focusing was too much trouble. He closed his eyes. “You might as well tell me everything.”

“I will when you’re ready.”

He felt her weight leave the berth and grabbed for her hand, missing but catching her leg instead. “I’m ready now.”

“I’m not,” she said, pulling free. “Wait here and I’ll be back with the stats.”

Stats. And he’d so hoped he wouldn’t be required to open his eyes again anytime soon.

While he waited for her return, he peeled off his socks, removed his cummerbund and undid the button Nikki had started to undo, as well as two more.

He was removing his cuff studs by the time she returned.

“All comfy now?” she asked.

Rather than respond, he tossed the studs toward the built-in dresser. One made it, one didn’t.

Instead of picking up the stud, Nikki ignored it. “Do you want to look at the papers here, or in the dinette?”

“Here.” He watched her carefully as he rolled up his shirtsleeves.

She was doing a good job of maintaining her business persona. Did she find it difficult to do here on the Honey Bee? Was she uncomfortable in the master stateroom with him now?

He certainly hoped so.

Sitting down on the berth and tucking one leg underneath her, Nikki spread open a blue file folder across her knee.

Carter’s glance swept over it. “This is the same stuff Bob showed me at the wedding.”

“But you ignored us at the wedding.”

“Obviously a tactical error on my part.”

The briefest of smiles flickered across her lips as she pointed to a column of names. “This is a list of major stockholders in Belden Industries. You currently own thirty-eight percent and are still the majority shareholder—”

“Look, Nikki, I don’t want to hear all the whys and wherefores right now, just get to the bottom line.”

She looked up and said bluntly, “You’re going to lose control of your company.”

“Impossible,” he denied, even as something twisted in his stomach.

Mutely, Nikki gestured to the folder.

She was being an alarmist and he was just seasick. “I don’t believe you.”

That got to her. “I know you don’t,” she snapped. “That’s why you’re here and not on your honeymoon with Miss Texas!”

“That would be Mrs. Texas, wouldn’t it?”

“Not…exactly.”

He expected fireworks. Instead, his comment seemed to allow her to regain control and slip back into the I’m all-business demeanor she’d adopted in the early days after their separation.

He’d hated her cold facade, but understood her reasons. Gradually, excruciatingly, they’d both thawed until, as far as Carter was concerned, everything was back to normal—until he’d announced his engagement to Dee Ann Karrenbrock and Nikki had frozen again. But Nikki wasn’t the only one who was cool toward the idea of his marriage to Victor Karrenbrock’s daughter.

No one on his staff liked Dee Ann, but then, they didn’t have to, did they?

“Nikki, I realize you don’t like Dee Ann, so keep her out of this discussion.”

“Gladly,” Nikki responded.

Carter smiled slightly. “Now,” he said, mimicking her tone, “I want information somewhere between that—” he pointed to the blue file “—and losing Belden Industries.”

She gazed at him, her mouth set, her eyes narrowing a fraction. “You currently own thirty-eight percent of Belden’s stock.”

She’d already said that. “Currently. I’m buying back more.”

“So far, you’ve been unsuccessful. I own six percent and Julian, Saunders and few others own a combined five percent. That’s forty-nine percent.”

“Bob’s been wringing his hands about that for weeks. What’s your point? I realize I’m vulnerable, but it’s just under half.”

“Just under half if everyone votes your way.”

His jaw dropped. “What’s—”

“No,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “No mutiny in the ranks.”

“Then what’s the problem?” he demanded, impatient with her. She hadn’t told him anything new.

“Upon your marriage, you were going to settle—”

“Were?”

“Carter, will you shut up and listen to me?”

His head was going to split. “Okay,” he whispered.

She lowered her voice. “Ten percent of your stock transfers to Dee Ann. That leaves you with personal holdings of only twenty-eight percent.”

Though he had no intention of admitting it to Nikki, Carter hadn’t liked the numbers, either, which was why he was so keen on buying back stock. “But I’ll still control forty-nine percent.”

“Will you?” The words hung in the silence.

Apparently, he’d misjudged her loyalty to him. “What do you own, six percent? Okay, then I’ll control forty-three percent. I’m still founder and majority stockholder. People would be foolish to vote against me.” Carter found himself unbelievably hurt by her betrayal.

“You pigheaded jerk!” Muttering, Nikki searched through the papers, withdrew one and threw it at him. “See for yourself. Here are all the attempts we made to buy stock compared with actual trades.”

Carter snatched the paper and blinked. He hadn’t realized how many offers Nikki’s department had made. Obviously, he’d have to pay more per share. “It’s almost as if someone knew in advance when a block would be available and snatched it right out from under us.” Still scanning the columns, he held out his hand. Nikki placed another paper in it.

Although he hadn’t spoken, it was exactly the information he’d wanted. Nikki had always been able to anticipate his requests, sometimes even before he’d known what they were. He should concentrate on what she was trying to tell him instead of assuming he was right and she was wrong.

“The buyers are all companies,” he commented with a frown.

“We only discovered the connection between Lacefield Foods and Karrenbrock Ventures after the market closed on Thursday. We spent Friday looking for a link with these other companies.”

Carter still frowned. “With Lacefield’s three percent, that gives Karrenbrock control of seventeen percent. Significant, but not a problem.”

Nikki’s eyes met his. “With Dee Ann’s ten percent, he’d control twenty-seven percent, which nearly equals your personal holdings.”

“You’re saying my wife would join with her father to vote against me?”

“Either that or join with you and vote against her father.”

He’d never thought of it quite that way. He’d known he was vulnerable, but he’d expected to beef up his shares before now. Deep inside, Carter felt the beginnings of panic. He suddenly realized that not since its inception had Belden Industries been at such risk. The paper in his hands quivered and he dropped it on the yellow-and-black-striped spread, disgusted by this outward sign of agitation.

Panic is a response that results from a perceived loss of control, he told himself. Carter was in control. He took a deep breath. He’d remain in control. He’d use the panic to provide an edge, an edge that had been dulled by endless wedding preparations.

“Of course, Saunders, Julian and I will vote our shares with you, which will guarantee you thirty-nine percent without Dee Ann’s stock,” Nikki assured him. “What concerns us is the possibility that Karrenbrock, through his subsidiaries, controls even more Belden stock.”

Alegitimate concern, and one he planned to address. “But you don’t know for certain.”

“We need time to find out.”

Carter gazed at her as she returned the papers to the folder, closed it and opened another one.

Mentally, he stepped back to assess the situation and the personalities involved. How much of what Nikki had told him was a valid business concern and how much was fueled by jealousy?

He couldn’t blindly accept the fact that his future father-in-law would threaten his company. It made more sense that the man would take steps to strengthen it so that his daughter—and future grandchildren—would benefit. “Why should I be concerned if my father-in-law owns a large chunk of my company? Shouldn’t I consider that a show of support?”

“I wouldn’t presume to tell you what to consider it, Carter,” she responded in a bored voice. “Victor Karrenbrock is a direct competitor in several areas of industrial manufacturing. You recently positioned yourself to enter oil-field supply, one of his main sources of revenue. It’s a tight, lean field. He’s bound to resent it.”

“Business is business,” Carter stated reflexively.

“Exactly.” Nikki opened another file. “Which is why we suspected that he’d attempt a hostile takeover while you were on your honeymoon.”

Preposterous. “And so you took it upon yourself to see that there was no honeymoon.” Outrageous.

“We thought it best.” She smiled. It was a little smile full of self-satisfaction. It infuriated him.

“You went too far!” Carter swept all Nikki’s facts and figures to the floor of the cabin. “You suspect!” His voice rose. “Suspect? Think? Probably?” He was shouting even though it renewed the pounding in his head. “On such a flimsy premise, you ruined my wedding?”

Nikki, her eyes wide, backed off the berth. “We need more time to verify—”

“Turn this boat around and take me back to my wife!” He groaned and grabbed his temple.

When he released his breath, he distinctly heard her say, “No.”

“What do you mean no? I’m ordering you to sail back to the dock.”

She laughed. Laughed. “On whose authority?”

Was he still asleep? Were his dreams turning into nightmares? “On my authority!”

“The Honey Bee belongs to me now. I’m her captain and I’ll decide where she sails.”

This was not the Nikki he knew. This was not the Nikki who worked with him. Worked for him. Matching her smug smile, he relaxed. “Then, as your boss, I’m ordering you to return me to shore.”

“I don’t work for you anymore. You fired me.” She looked thoughtful. “Come to think of it, you fired all of us. Better not count on that eleven percent voting your way.”

The throbbing at the sides of his temples increased. Without this blasted headache, he’d be able to think his way through this mess. “I rescind my firing. Now, take me back.”

Lacing her fingers in front of her, she drew a deep breath. “That wouldn’t be wise.”

“Okay.” Inexplicably, Carter’s anger seeped away, leaving him feeling like a deflated balloon. “Nikki, what’s done is done. Now I’ve got to make things right with Dee Ann, or she will vote against me.”

“Carter…” For the first time, Nikki’s calm facade cracked. “Any stock she owns, she purchased herself. The ceremony never took place.”

“But you said—” He broke off and jerked his left hand up. No wedding ring encircled his finger. Mutely, he stared at her.

Nikki’s mouth twisted. “You aren’t married to Dee Ann, you’re married to me.”

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