Intent to Seduce & A Glimpse of Fire(31)

In the bathroom, she swept everything on the vanity into her cosmetics bag. A plastic bottle of shampoo hit the floor and bounced. Bending over, she scooped it up, but it slipped out of her hand and bounced off the floor again, this time onto her foot. A kick sent it sailing into the wall, and this time it boomeranged back into her leg.

Taking a deep breath, she made herself stand perfectly still. This wasn’t like her at all. She usually packed meticulously. And she’d never before had a fight with a shampoo bottle.

Turning, she held tightly to the edge of the vanity. She had to get a grip. She made herself look in the mirror. The dark circles under her eyes didn’t surprise her, but the tears stunned her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried. Dr. MacKenzie Lloyd never cried. Evidently, Mac did.

Who was she?

Before she’d met Lucas, she thought she’d known the answer. She was a research scientist who had a job she liked and whose work was going well. The only thing that had been lacking in her life had been a family of her own.

She’d taken the first step toward solving that problem just the way she would have approached a problem in the lab. It had seemed so logical, so simple. Maybe Dr. Lloyd’s plan would have worked, if it hadn’t been for Mac.

Sinking onto the toilet seat, she buried her face in her hands. She just needed to get back to D.C. She still had her work. She could go to her lab and bury herself in it. With time she would forget Lucas Wainright. And the way he’d looked at her before he’d left the suite.

He had every right to be furious with her. She’d deceived him. And she could never forgive herself if she’d put Sophie in any kind of danger. It might have been Sophie’s suggestion that she fly down to the Keys in a disguise, but she’d gone along with it easily enough. She could see now that it was Mac who’d gone along with it because she’d wanted to try out her research on Lucas. Had she loved him even then?

No, she wouldn’t let herself think about it. Turning, she walked into the bedroom. She was going to pack and get out of this room that smelled like him.

The chimes rang just as she was jamming her cosmetics bag into the suitcase. One thought filled her mind as she raced to the door. Lucas.

But it was the manager who’d gotten the chair for her in the lobby, and he was shaking his head at her. “Mrs. Wainright, you really shouldn’t open your door without ascertaining who’s there.”

“I thought it might be Mr. Wainright.”

He smiled at her. “That’s why I’m here. Mr. Wainright spoke with me before he left. He told me to tell you that the staff has instructions to make your stay, for however long you wish to remain, as pleasant as possible.”

Mac blinked back the sting of new tears. Lucas was furious with her, and yet he’d taken the time to make sure the hotel would take care of her.

“Is there anything I can do for you right now?”

“Yes,” Mac said. “I’d like you to make a plane reservation for me back to D.C.”

“Oh. Well, of course. Although we’d much prefer that you stay, I’d be happy to take care of that. If you’ll just give me your first initial, Mrs. Wainright? They’ll want to know for the reservation.”

For just a moment, Mac hesitated. Then she said, “S. For Sophie.” If she had to fly in a commercial plane, she would have to present a picture ID to get on the flight. She’d just have to use Sophie’s, and she’d have to wear the blond wig so she’d look like Sophie’s picture.

“I’ll see to it right away.”

She was closing the door to the suite when it struck her. Had Sophie used her ID in the same way?

Leaning back against the door, she forced herself to think. It had been fun buying the wigs and then putting them on in the back room of Sophie’s shop. But what if it had been more than just a lark for Sophie? Was it possible that she had switched the purses on purpose?

Thinking back, Mac tried to recall Sophie’s exact words in the tree house. The next time I find a man I like, I’m going to make sure he doesn’t know I’m Sophie Wainright.

It had been Sophie’s idea to buy the wigs and the matching purses and raincoats. She’d blamed it on the fact that Lucas was having her followed, and that she desperately needed a break. What if her plan all along had been to go somewhere and actually pretend to be someone else? Like MacKenzie Lloyd.

Mac strode down the hall to get her bag. The sooner she got to D.C., the sooner she would be able to figure out where Sophie had gone.



“REPORT.” Vincent Falcone gestured his son into a chair on the other side of his desk. In his hand, he held a glass of Falcone Vineyards 1998 Cabernet Franc. Currently it was his favorite vintage, and it would only improve with age. Beyond the glass that walled his office on two sides, grapevines marched in neat little rows until they began to climb the hills in the distance.

“A crew will be here shortly after three on Saturday to inflate the hot-air balloons. They can take any of our guests up until sunset.”

Vincent lifted his glass of wine and watched the play of light in its depths. Sonny had purchased four hot-air balloons just last week. Offering free rides would draw crowds to the vineyards and sell more wine, Sonny had said in defense of his expenditure.

“And about the other business?” Vincent asked.

“Everything’s going as planned.”

“You have a signed contract?”

Sonny shifted in his chair. “I will by Saturday.”

“You said you’d have it last week.”

“I know, but there’s been a little delay.”

“In business, delays can be fatal.”

“I have a man on the inside who assures me that I will have the contract by Saturday.”

Vincent said nothing.

Sonny shifted again in his chair. “I am perfectly capable of running Lansing Biotech. I know you don’t trust me. But I’ve got everything under control.”

His son was lying. Worse than that, he was a fool. Vincent took a sip of his wine and let the flavors linger on his tongue. There were fools in every family, almost as if the stronger genes that ran in a bloodline had to take a break before they could appear again.

In the Wainright family, the weak genes had made their appearance in Lucas’s father. It was too bad that Lucas hadn’t inherited more of those weaknesses and fewer of his grandfather’s strengths.

But in the end, it wouldn’t make any difference. Vincent was not going to allow his business connection with Wainright Enterprises to be severed. That was why he’d arranged for Lucas’s sister and Sonny to meet in Georgetown.

And that was why he’d held his tongue about the balloons when he’d learned that they were part of Sonny’s campaign to impress Sophie Wainright. Vincent could picture her now, riding in one of them with Sonny just as Lucas arrived at the party. A picture was often worth a thousand words.

“Why don’t you bring Sophie here for dinner tonight?” he said as he lifted his glass to his lips and took another sip.

“She’s busy. She has to make a presentation tomorrow.”

“A presentation? I thought she flew out here specifically to see you.”

Sonny frowned. “She did. But…she hasn’t yet admitted to me that she’s really Sophie Wainright. She’s still pretending to be this Susan Walker person. I thought of telling her today that I’m aware of the masquerade.”

Vincent shook his head. “Best to wait until she tells you.” And the fact that she hadn’t told him wasn’t a good sign. Sonny had always had a way with women, so bringing the two of them together had been worth a shot.

Setting his glass down on his desk, he said, “You’d better go work on that contract.”

He waited for his son to leave the office before he sighed.

It was a damn good thing he had a backup plan to handle Lucas Wainright.



HOME. It was the foremost thought in Mac’s mind as she paid the taxi driver and climbed the porch steps of her duplex. She knew where Sophie was, and she was safe. Just as soon as she got inside, she would face the task of calling Lucas’s office to let him know. He wouldn’t take the call though. She’d convinced herself of that. He wouldn’t want to speak with her ever again, so she wouldn’t have to hear his voice. All she’d have to do was leave the information with his secretary.

Setting her bag down, she fished in her purse for her keys. All she’d had to do was call the 800 number on her credit card and ask for the latest posted charges. It was all there—an airline ticket to San Francisco and another charge to the Châfateau Mirabeau in the Napa Valley. Sophie hadn’t answered the phone when she’d called, but the desk clerk had promised to give her the message.

She swept her hand one last time across the bottom of her purse. Where were her keys? Then it hit her. She didn’t have them because Sophie had her purse. Moving quickly to her neighbor’s door, she knocked but without much hope. The stockbroker who shared the Georgetown duplex with her wasn’t likely to be home from the office yet.

After a few moments, she dropped her bag on the porch and hurried around the side of the house. She was going to have to break in, and one of the basement windows was her best bet. Dropping to her knees, she picked up a good-size rock. Then, just to make sure, she leaned close and peered through the glass. The latch was secure.