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Sam was having way too much fun.
That wasn’t unusual in his job, but this case was different. And Gracie Delacroix was certainly different than any woman he’d ever met. He kept forgetting the reason he’d come to Hay Springs in the first place—to find Gilbert Holloway.
And that was unacceptable.
“Get it together, Holden,” he muttered under his breath as the rickety, old elevator stopped at the third floor. They climbed out and began walking down the ornately carpeted hallway that led to his hotel room.
The worst part was that Gracie thought she’d been dancing with Gilbert, not Sam. All her smiles were for Gilbert. Even the flash of desire he’d seen in her wide blue eyes was for Gilbert.
Sam knew he deserved to chew on a bar of soap for his deception, and no doubt
Grandma Hattie would have one handy if she ever heard he’d been lying to a nice woman like Gracie. He’d used tricks and deception before as a bounty hunter, but those were usually reserved for actual criminals. Not for a beautiful blonde who thought she was about to walk into a hotel room with her best friend from high school.
Which just made him feel even more like a downright scoundrel for tricking her like this.
When they reached the door, he slipped his key card into the slot to unlock it and reminded himself that he had a job to do. A job that was turning out to be more complicated than he’d ever imagined.
Sam had been able to keep up his charade as Gilbert so far, but Gracie knew Holloway better than anyone. The more time he spent with her, the more likely it became that she would see through his ruse.
“After you,” he said, holding the door open for her.
He’d resisted his share of temptations on the job, but none of them could compare to the temptation of Gracie brushing past him as she walked into the hotel room. He inhaled the scent of her intoxicating perfume and before he could stop himself, his gaze dropped to watch the way her body moved in that killer dress.
He was in dangerous territory now.
Unfamiliar territory, too. He'd never lied to a woman about his identity before. Now he found himself forced to continue to play the part of Gilbert Holloway. Deceiving everyone down in that ballroom had been a new ploy in his bag of tricks. But continuing to deceive Gracie was another thing entirely.
Sam sucked in a deep breath, knowing he didn't have any other choice.
Especially now that the Holloway case had just been blown wide open. The discovery of Allison Webb's connection to Gilbert, followed by Gracie's revelation that she'd received a package from the guy made it impossible for Sam to reveal his true identity to her. For the first time in three years, he had his first real lead in this case.
But he was getting ahead of himself. First, he needed Gracie to spill all her secrets about the real Gilbert.
As he closed the hotel door behind him, he saw Gracie standing by the large arched window, silhouetted by the setting rays of the sun.
“I forgot how beautiful the sunset is here,” she said, then reached up to close the blinds. “We like it dark when we watch television, remember?”
“Of course,” Sam replied, picking up the videotape case she had set on the bedstand. He still couldn’t believe Gilbert had contacted her just two days ago.
When Gracie had shown the VHS tape to Sam, it had been like a bomb had gone off in his head. The events of the past few years had swirled together in a chaotic whirlwind of memories. His partner, Ray Lopez, unconscious and bleeding on the ground. Gilbert Holloway's vanishing act. The endless nights Sam spent in front of his computer, searching for a break in this case. And the obsession to find Holloway that had almost consumed him.
But now, in the space of an evening, actual clues about Gilbert Holloway had landed right in his lap. Sam tried to tell himself that this VHS tape might not mean anything, that it could be just an innocent gift from one friend to another. But his gut told him a different story. Holloway was on the run and wouldn't take the chance of contacting Gracie unless it was important.
Important enough to risk his freedom.
Unfortunately, Gracie’s life might be at risk now—because of Sam. His impersonation of ‘Gilbert’ at the reunion might have set something in motion that could prove dangerous to her. He was already responsible for one person getting hurt on this case. He darn well wasn't about to let it to happen again.
The king-sized bed dominated the room and Sam’s pulse picked up as he watched Gracie walk toward it and pull back the coverlet. But instead of climbing into the bed, she snatched a couple of the fluffy down pillows and carried them over to the Victorian-style love seat.
“Do you want still want to get some pizza?” she asked, kicking off her shoes before taking a seat in front of the television.
Sam took off his suit jacket and tie, then unbuttoned his shirt collar. “You know, I’m suddenly not hungry.” He tossed his jacket and tie on a chair by the closet. “But if you want some, go ahead and call in an order.”
“No, I’m good. Just ready for the movie.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I’m sure you remember what happened the last time we watched His Girl Friday together.”
Sam hesitated, then turned slightly away from her as he placed his car keys and wallet on top of the dresser. “Yeah, that was really something.”
Hoping to avoid more questions he had no answers for, Sam walked over to the television cabinet, then pulled the tape out of the case. “I can’t wait to watch it again.”
Then he inserted the tape into the ancient VCR, grateful for a few moments to gather himself and figure out how to breathe again. He fiddled with the buttons on the VCR for a few minutes, but with no success.
"We have a problem," he said at last, ejecting the tape from the machine and setting it on the television cabinet. “This VCR doesn’t work.”
“Oh, no!” Gracie cried. “I was really looking forward to watching it with you again.”
Sam wondered if there was another VCR in the hotel that worked. “I can call down to the front desk and see if we can get another one.”
“No, don’t worry about it.” Gracie patted the empty space on the love seat beside her. “Sit down with me and we can watch something else. There's plenty of room here.” She laughed. “Certainly more room than on that old divan we used to share in Aunt Jolene’s basement."
A shard of jealousy shot through him at the thought of her cuddling up with Holloway. Sam knew the two of them had never even dated, having once read Gilbert's journal about all the missed romantic opportunities he'd had with Gracie. The guy had been seriously conflicted, attracted to his best friend but too insecure to do anything about it.
At the time, Sam had actually felt a little sorry for the guy. Now he could only be happy that Holloway hadn't acted on his feelings, a feat even more difficult than Sam had imagined now that he found himself in a similar situation.
“Just put anything on,” Gracie suggested. “I’m not picky.”
“Sounds good to me.” He reached for the remote control and turned on the Vintage Channel, one of their favorites according to Gilbert’s emails. The peppy intro music to the movie Pillow Talk rang out from the television set.
Gracie curled up in one corner of the love seat with a contented sigh and a pillow wrapped in her arms.
Sam joined her there, taking off his boots and then mirroring his position to match hers. It was a bounty hunter trick he’d learned to enhance bonding. If she felt comfortable with him, then she might be more inclined to confide in him.
He realized too late that she was sitting in some kind of yoga position, designed for someone much more flexible than him. And the fact that the two of them barely fit on the love seat together didn’t help either. But he’d suffered far worse on the job—so he could handle a little physical discomfort.
As the movie began, he could smell the delicate aroma of lilacs in her hair. Feel the warmth of her body so close to his own. Hear the soft laughter in her throat as she watched the 1959 comedy starring Rock Hudson and Doris Day.
The scenes played on the television screen, but Sam found himself covertly watching Gracie instead of the movie. She was so close to him that he’d barely have to move his hand to touch her. And he really wanted to touch her. He wanted to ask her questions about Gilbert too, but he decided to wait until the movie was over. At last, music played as the movie credits began to roll across the screen.
Sam swallowed a sigh of relief. He'd made it. His willpower had conquered his desire for her, although it had been a close call. A very close call. Relieved, he turned to her, surprised to find how close she was to him on the love seat.
Sam sucked in a deep breath as she turned to him with an enticing smile. If she didn't leave in the next thirty seconds, his self-control was going to crumble. The questions about Gilbert could wait until later. "I think it's time to say good night, Gracie."
She stared at him for a long moment. Then she leaned toward him and whispered, "Not yet."
He knew he'd lost the battle the moment her lips met his. He surrendered with a moan of anticipation that got lost in the sweet cavern of her mouth. It echoed deep within him as her sweet, sultry kiss filled the void that had ached inside of him for so long.
His conscience tugged at him to stop, but Sam couldn't pull back now. Not yet. Not when she tasted so good and leaned into him that way.
Somewhere in a corner of his brain, he knew that this wasn't right. Kissing Gracie while impersonating Gilbert wasn't fair to her. But a man could only take so much. Sam wrapped his arms around her and kissed her with a fervor that almost scared him.
When he finally broke the kiss, he pulled back just far enough to see the delicate pink flush in her cheeks as she gazed up at him. “Oh, Gilbert,” she breathed. "That was definitely worth waiting ten years to see you again.”
Sam didn't know what to say. He certainly couldn't tell her the truth now. He could barely put two words together after what had just happened between them. It had been more than a kiss. More than desire. His reaction to her was something he'd never felt with any woman before. Ever.
Worst of all, he'd barely put up a fight. Sam Holden, who prided himself on his self-control, had lost it while kissing Gracie. But he didn’t have any regrets. On the contrary, he wanted it to happen again.
But not until she knew the truth.
He wasn't sure how to tell her yet and now certainly wasn't the moment to do it. But Sam wasn't a man to run from a challenge. And he sure as hell wasn't going to run away from Gracie Delacroix.
She needed him to protect her, even if she didn't know it yet. At least until he found Gilbert and the rest of his partners in crime. Now he just had to figure out how to do that without complicating her life even further.
But thought was impossible with Gracie now cradled in his arms, watching the next movie appear on the screen. His eyelids grew heavy, and he felt more relaxed than he had in years. Sam told himself he'd figure it all out tomorrow when he had time to make her understand.
She needed to know the truth about Holloway so she could whisper Sam’s name the next time they kissed. And there would be a next time—Sam had no doubt about that.
Because he wasn't about to let Gracie go.
#
For the first time that Gracie could remember, the reality was better than the dream. She
opened her eyes, finding herself warmly ensconced in Gilbert’s powerful arms as they both lay half reclined on the love seat. The glow of the television screen was the only light in the room as another old movie played on the set. Her eyes still heavy with sleep, she silently picked up the remote control and turned off the volume.
Then she looked back at Gilbert, who was still fast asleep. The light from the television
glinted on the dark layer of whiskers covering his square jaw. She'd never noticed how thick and lush his eyelashes were before. Or that tiny scar just above his left eyebrow.
Then again, she hadn't seen him in ten years. No doubt he had scars, both inside and out, that she didn't know anything about. She had scars, too, but at this moment they didn't seem to matter.
Gracie snuggled against his muscular body, savoring the feel of his beard against her cheek. She closed her eyes, her hand resting lightly on his shirt as she remembered the delicious way that he'd kissed her last night. More than anything, she wanted to repeat the experience.
But Gilbert was sleeping so deeply that she didn't want to disturb him.
She still didn’t know what he wanted from her. When he’d told her the VCR was broken, she’d expected him to tell her the reason for mailing it to her. Or why that note said he was in trouble.
Maybe he wasn’t in trouble anymore and was too embarrassed to even bring up the subject. That would certainly have been true of the Gilbert she knew in high school. But this Gilbert didn’t seem to suffer from a lack of confidence.
Maybe that’s what had emboldened her to kiss him. She suppressed a shiver of delight, remembering the way he’d kissed her back. Gilbert knew how to kiss a woman even better than he knew how to dance.
He was simply amazing.
But that wasn't the only word she could use to describe him. He was smart, sexy, funny. Her best friend. What more could a girl want?
Her high school reunion had certainly turned out better than Gracie imagined.
She breathed a contented sigh, realizing she'd never envisioned an evening quite like the one they'd shared. The way he'd danced with her. The way he'd held her in his arms. No man had ever made her feel so cherished before. That was the only word she could use to describe it.
And that's why she knew, deep down in her heart, that this might be the real thing.
The sudden vibrating buzz of the cell phone in her purse caught Gracie’s attention. She glanced over at Gilbert, who was still fast asleep. Not wanting to wake him, she rose silently off the love seat and almost tripped over his cowboy boots on the floor.
Regaining her balance, she retrieved her purse from the chair. After digging inside, she plucked out her cell phone, noting the time was just past four o’clock in the morning.
Her phone screen didn’t show the name of the caller or a telephone number, just the word: Private. She hesitated, wondering if it was a telemarketer. But she had several elite clients who chose to hide their phone numbers, so she needed to answer the call.
Her bare feet silently padded across the carpet until she reached the bathroom, then softly closed the door. Once inside, she answered the phone. “Hello?”
"Gracie, is that you?"
The deep voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. "Yes, who is this?"
"It's Gilbert. I need your help."
"Very funny. Is this some kind of joke?" She leaned against the sink, feeling the cold marble counter through the thin fabric of her dress. All she really wanted was to join Gilbert on the love seat again and warm herself in his arms.
"Gracie, what's wrong with you?"
"Nothing's wrong with me," she whispered, losing her patience. "It's just that you're not Gilbert and I don’t play these games in the middle of the night.”
"Of course it's me," the man replied, an edge to his voice. "Gilbert Holloway, your best friend from high school."
His voice did sound eerily familiar, but she knew it was impossible. Time to call his bluff. "How can you be Gilbert when he's with me right now?"
"What?" The question was almost a shriek.
"You can't be Gilbert Holloway because he's with me. He's been with me all evening."
"Oh, no." The man's groan carried over the line. "Oh, Gracie, I can't believe this is happening. Look, I'm Gilbert. I swear to you, I'm Gilbert."
She wondered if some of her drunk classmates had been up all night planning this prank. They'd probably seen her leave with Gilbert and put two and two together. "I'm hanging up now."
"No! Wait. Please." The entreaty in his voice made her pause. This didn't sound like a joke. It sounded like a man desperate for her to believe him.
It sounded like Gilbert.
She shook off that unsettling thought. This call had to be a joke. But how would any of her old classmates get her cell phone number? She’d changed it when she’d moved to Pine City. But she had given it to Gilbert, although he’d usually chosen to communicate with her via email.
None of this made any sense.
"Who is this?" she demanded, almost certain this was a stupid prank. The guy on the other end of the line simply could not be Gilbert Holloway—he was asleep on the love seat just a few feet away from her.
But she still couldn't bring herself to hang up the phone. There was something about the caller—something about his voice—that kept her on the line.
"Look, I talked to someone who was at the reunion tonight," the caller said, "and she told me there was a man there pretending to be me. I don't know what's going on, Gracie, but you have to believe me. I'm Gilbert."
"No," she breathed into the phone.
"I'm Gilbert Leopold Holloway," he said firmly. "I was named after my grandfather, and we moved to Hay Springs when I was a sophomore. My address was 1324 Mesquite Road. And my house was painted yellow with black shutters. You used to say it reminded you of a bumblebee."
An icy chill swept through Gracie that she couldn't blame on the cold marble. The voice sounded like Gilbert. And who else would know how she used to describe his old house? She had passed by it every day on her way to high school. The new owner had repainted it years ago. Now it was white with pine-green shutters.
She closed her eyes, feeling a little dizzy. This couldn't be happening. The imposter story was ludicrous. Gilbert Holloway was right here with her. In his hotel room. She opened her eyes, then peeked through the bathroom door just to see if he was the one playing the joke. But he was still sprawled out on the love seat, no cell phone in sight. Besides, she reminded herself, he'd been asleep when her phone rang.
She closed the bathroom door again, catching her reflection in the mirror. The color had drained from her face and her shoulder-length blond hair was a mess. Maybe this was a nightmare and she'd wake up soon. But the persistent crackle of the cell phone in her ear told her it was all too real.
"Where are you?" she asked him.
"I can't tell you. Not yet anyway."
"How do I know this is really Gilbert Holloway?" she insisted, still not wanting to believe it was true.
He hesitated for a moment, then said, "Do you remember the time I saved your life?"
She gasped. No one else knew that story except Aunt Jolene, and she’d just told her two days ago. Jolene liked to chat with her customers, but she wouldn’t have shared Gracie’s story with them.
“We were watching His Girl Friday in your aunt’s basement,” Gilbert continued. “And eating homemade taffy.”
Her chest began to ache. “Go on.”
“You started to laugh at the scene where the character played by Cary Grant tricks Rosalind Russell’s fiancé into getting arrested.”
“Played by Ralph Bellamy,” Gracie whispered, her voice trembling. She sagged against the sink, barely resisting the impulse to hang up the phone and forget this call ever happened. But she couldn't go back now. She knew it was Gilbert on the line—which left her with another very important question.
"Then who is this man pretending to be you?" she choked out.
"I don't know," Gilbert replied, his voice frazzled. "There are a lot of people after me, Gracie. It could be any one of them. I'm in trouble. Big trouble."
Trouble didn't even begin to describe her situation. She'd kissed a stranger. She’d slept in the arms of a stranger. Even worse, an imposter. If a man like that would deceive her about his identity, what else would he do?
"Please tell me what's going on, Gilbert."
"I can't go into it now, Gracie. I don't have much time. But you need to get away from that man. I'll contact you again soon. Either tomorrow or the next day. I need to get that tape back."
"Why?" she asked.
“The why isn’t important right now. Do you still have it?"
"Of course, I still have it,” she said, exasperated. “But I don't understand any of this."
"Look, I’ve got to go. Please, be careful. I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you. Promise me, Gracie."
"I promise," she replied. "But—"
The call ended, leaving her with more questions than answers. For a moment she just stood there barefoot in the bathroom, trying to absorb what had just happened.
Gilbert wasn't Gilbert.
The stranger on that love seat had completely fooled her. He’d fooled everyone at the reunion, too. Gracie slipped the cell phone into the pocket of her dress, furious with herself. She'd known it wasn't him the moment she'd seen him. But she'd let that name tag convince her, as well as her other classmates, who seemed to accept that he was Gilbert as readily as she had.
In truth, she’d wanted him to be Gilbert.
How could she have been so stupid?
How could she have kissed him?
A hot flush suffused her body when she thought of how eager she'd been to fall into his arms. So ready to believe that the handsome hunk in front of her was her geeky friend from high school. She'd been a much-too-willing victim of his deception.
Tears pricked her eyes when she thought of everything that had happened between them. He'd duped her so easily that he must have laughed himself silly when she'd fallen asleep in his arms last night. But what did he want from her? Why would he go to so much trouble to pose as Gilbert? And how had he been able to mimic Gilbert’s voice so perfectly?
None of it made any sense to her.
Unless he wanted the videotape. That possibility seemed like a certainty when she replayed their conversation from last night in her head. They had danced and talked all evening. But he hadn't invited her to go up to his hotel room until she'd pulled the videotape out of her purse.
She remembered the strange way he'd acted when they'd first entered his hotel room. Almost as if he was trying to avoid her. But she'd pushed ahead, finally blindsiding him with that kiss until he hadn't put up a fight anymore.
Humiliation washed over her. She'd made a complete fool of herself. Falling for the man's masquerade to the point of kissing him! And that wonderful dance they’d shared, which she’d also forced on him, should have made her realize he wasn’t the real Gilbert.
All she wanted to do now was get as far away from him as possible. The only way this situation could get any worse was if she had to face him again.
Determined to disappear before that could happen, Gracie opened the bathroom door, wincing at the slight squeal of the hinges as she made her way into the main room. The stranger still lay unmoving on the love seat, one brawny arm stretched out over a pillow.
She moved quietly toward the love seat and hastily pulled on her shoes, then she grabbed her purse and headed for the door. But as her hand touched the brass doorknob, she remembered the videotape. Swallowing a groan of frustration, she turned around and headed back toward the television cabinet, keeping her gaze averted from the love seat. She didn't want to look at the man again—didn't want to remember the way he’d made a fool of her.
She picked up the videotape and stuffed it into her purse, then her gaze moved involuntarily to Gilbert—or rather, the man pretending to be Gilbert.
He slept like a baby.
That’s when her embarrassment morphed into a white-hot rage. Gracie wasn’t going to sneak out of his hotel room with her tail between her legs.
She was going to make him pay.