Project Runaway Bride(15)

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she said in a shaky whisper.

He took a determined step back. “Why not? You’re not engaged anymore. At least I think that’s what it means when you run off five minutes before saying ‘I do.’”

She flinched, and he almost regretted the sharpness of his comment. Almost. Then her shoulders went back, a look of determination falling across her face.

“You need to leave, Reid,” she told him frankly. “I’m fine, you can see that. Go back to New York and tell my sisters as much. Let my entire family know I’m okay and just need a little time to myself. I’ll be home soon.”

He cocked his head. “They’re going to want to know why you took off in the first place.”

She shrugged in reply. “Tell them you don’t know. You were hired to find me, not explain the motives behind my actions, right?”

Touché, he thought, biting back the ghost of a grin. “They’ll want to know where you are.”

Her eyes narrowed, anger beginning to flash in their icy blue depths. “Well, don’t tell them,” she all but snapped.

“You want me to lie to them?” He continued to bait her.

“Of course not. Just tell them that I’m safe and don’t want anyone knowing where I am right now. I’ll be in touch after I’ve worked out a few things, and there’s no need to worry.”

“Sounds good,” he said with a nod. “They might even believe it.”

While she scowled at him, he moved around the island and returned to his perch on the stool. He took a casual drink of the orange juice he’d found in the refrigerator, waiting until she dropped her guard and sat down, too.

“But how do I know you’re really okay? What if there’s something more nefarious going on that you’re not saying? What if I turn around and drive back to New York only to find out later that you were hurt or abducted or arrested?”

Astonished, she raised her brow. “What would I be arrested for?”

Her voice was sharp, sounding truly offended. And he knew why—no way in hell would Juliet Zaccaro ever behave in such a manner that would cause her to be arrested. He’d be surprised to discover that she’d ever even received a parking ticket.

Juliet was a by-the-book kind of woman. She didn’t speed, she didn’t raise her voice and she most certainly didn’t break the law. Reid would be willing to bet that the only thing she’d ever done in her life that wasn’t aboveboard and filled her with guilt was...him.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, and he tightened his jaw to maintain control of his annoyance. After a moment, he forced himself to relax, remembering that he was here to check on her, not to start a fight. Which didn’t mean he couldn’t continue to tease her a bit.

With a shrug, he said, “I don’t know why you’re here or what you’ve been up to. Maybe you were pretending to be engaged to that guy so you could embezzle money from him, and now you’re running off to meet your real boyfriend.”

Rather than shrieking like a banshee as he’d half expected, she shot him a withering glare.

He shrugged it off. “Or maybe you’re a closet nudist and came up here so you could commune with nature au naturel without anyone seeing or recognizing you.”

She continued to glare at him, but he didn’t miss the tremor of amusement that tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“I think it would be best if I stuck around for a while, just to make sure everything’s copacetic.”

At that, her eyes went silver-dollar round and her mouth dropped open like a carp’s.

“Oh, no. No, no.” She jumped off her stool as though it had suddenly turned into a high-temperature hot plate. “Absolutely not!”

Ignoring her outburst, he slid off his own stool and started wandering around the rest of the house like a potential buyer. It was roomy and expansive, a “cabin” only in the sense that it was finished almost completely in polished oak—the floors, walls and exposed beams far overhead—and furnished in dark, woodsy colors. Millionaire rustic, for those whose idea of “roughing it” was leaving their gold card at home.

Not that he had room to judge. If he didn’t work so much and had the time to get away, he’d probably build or buy a place just like this. He could certainly afford it, but along with the idea of purchasing a yacht and sailing around the world or retiring to a chateau in the Swiss Alps to spend the rest of his life skiing, it remained on his “one of these days” list.

He wouldn’t mind sticking around here for a while, though. It would almost be a vacation, if he didn’t count the woman who was even now staring daggers at his back.