"Delighted to make yer acquaintance. I'm Robby MacKay." He took her hand. "Since ye're a friend of Ian's, he'll want to see you right away."
"Oh, that's not necessary." She tried to remove her hand, but Robby's grip tightened. "Surely it can wait till after the ceremony."
"Come with me." He pulled her across the vestibule.
Oh, shit. "Isn't the wedding about to start? We need to take our seats."
He opened a door and gently pushed her inside a dark room. "Wait here." He flipped on a light and as she quickly looked about, he grabbed her canvas tote bag.
"No!" Dammit, her weapon was in there. "I need that."
"Ye'll get it back." He started to shut the door.
"Wait! Is Jack here?"
Robby paused. "Jack?"
"Yes. Giacomo. His English-speaking friends call him Jack. I need to talk to him."
Without bothering to answer, Robby shut the door in her face. An ominous click sounded like a key turning a lock.
Dammit! Lara looked about the dimly lit room. A storeroom, she guessed. A row of high-backed, carved wooden chairs rested against the wall to her left. A bookcase filled with dusty old hymnals lined the wall to the right. The wall across from her was bare. No other door. Just as well. She couldn't leave without her uniform and weapon.
Damn, damn, damn! She paced across the small room. How could she have been so stupid? That Scotsman had moved incredibly fast. He'd wrenched the bag away before she'd known what was happening. But she had suspected he was onto her. She should have done something. But what? Drawn her weapon in a church at a wedding she was crashing?
She tried the door and sure enough, it was locked. How long would they keep her in here? What if she was late to work? What if she couldn't get her uniform and sidearm back? What a lousy cop she was turning out to be.
On the other hand, if Jack was here, then she was a damned good cop for managing to find him.
Male voices murmured on the other side of the door. She took a few steps back and drew in a deep, steadying breath.
Click. The door swung open to reveal Robby and … Jack.
Her breath caught. Good God, he was even more handsome than she'd remembered. His elegant gray suit looked tailor-made. His golden brown eyes widened as he looked her over.
"Ye know this woman?" Robby asked.
"Si." Jack never took his eyes off her.
"Lucky bastard." Robby shoved her tote bag into Jack's arms and strode away.
Jack continued to give her that look, the one she could only describe as hungry. A chill crept up her bare arms. Oh yeah. It was more than intellectual curiosity that had driven her to hunt him down.
"Bellissima." Jack shook his head. "Mi displace, I-I forgot all my English for a moment. You look so … bella. You would make the Mona Lisa cry with envy."
Her heart stuttered in her chest. Get a grip. You're here to question this guy. "Hello, Jack."
"I thought I would never see you again."
She lifted her chin. "I told you it wasn't over."
He walked into the room and shut the door. "Then you wish to start something with me?"
Chapter Three
Lara ignored the flutters in her stomach and the tingling sensation on her skin. She was not about to let this man know how flustered she was. "I'm here on business, Jack. This is an investigation."
He smiled slowly. "I'm flattered. I didn't realize I warranted so much personal attention."
The cad was trying to flirt with her, but she would remain professional. "You can answer my questions here or down at the precinct."
"I don't want to miss my friend's wedding."
"Then talk to me now. I want to know how you did it."
"Did what?" He ambled over to one of the high-backed chairs and set her tote bag on the red cushioned seat.
"You know what. I went back to the Plaza this morning, and the room was spotless."
"I told you I would clean it." He peeked in her bag, then glanced at her. "I'm a man of my word."
"If you're honest, then you'll tell me how you did it."
"I cannot take full credit. I was helped by some very efficient maids." He removed a gift-wrapped box from the tote bag. "You brought a wedding present. How thoughtful of you. Especially when you don't know the bride or groom."
Her face grew warm. "It was the least I could do. Now back to the matter at hand. When I questioned the hotel staff this morning, none of them could remember you."
He shrugged. "I suppose I am a forgettable sort of guy."
"On what planet?" she muttered, then blushed when he gave her a sexy grin.
He shook the wedding present. "What's inside, Officer? Some handcuffs?"
"Very funny." And the rascal kept changing the subject. "I'll answer your question, but then you have to answer mine. I gave them some silver-plated salad tongs."
"Silver?" He chuckled. "Ian will love that."
"I couldn't afford anything fancier. I had to buy three presents today."
"You went to three weddings?" His eyes twinkled with humor. "Were you invited to any of them?"
She crossed her arms, glaring at him. "I went to every wedding I found listed in the paper that had a Scottish groom. Ian MacPhie's name seemed familiar somehow."
Jack set the wedding gift down on another chair. "Ian became a bit of a celebrity about six months ago when he was declared the most eligible bachelor in the city on an online dating service."
"Oh, that's right. Now I remember." Lara's roommate had shown her that site at a cyber cafe. All the girls in the coffee house had drooled over Ian.
Jack glanced at her with a wary look. "Were you one of Ian's admirers?"
Was he worried about competition? Lara affected a dreamy look. "You have to admit Ian is incredibly hot."
Jack frowned at her. "He's taken. That's why his bride insisted on putting the announcement in the paper. She wants everyone to know he's no longer available."
Lara's curiosity got the better of her. "What about you? Are you taken?"
"I am single, but I wouldn't call myself available."
An odd answer. She wanted to know more, but she needed to stay professional. "Back to my original question. How did you erase all those peoples' memory?"
Jack rummaged around inside her tote bag. "So you crashed weddings with Scottish grooms until you found me? That's a fine piece of detective work. I'm impressed."
Lara's heart swelled at the compliment, then realized he'd done it again. "You didn't answer my question."
He pulled out her police hat. "Charming."
"Leave that alone. And answer my question, please."
He removed her folded blue shirt and pants. "You are going to work soon?"
"My shift starts at ten. Jack, how come no one remembers you?"
"I didn't want them to. Ah, your gun." He retrieved her belt, holster and automatic pistol from the tote bag. He flipped open the holster to remove her gun.
She reached for it. "Give that to me."
He ejected the clip and handed her the empty gun.
She lifted her brows. "Do you think I would shoot you? You wound me," she repeated his words from the night before.
His mouth curled up. "Brava, bellissima." He unbuttoned his suit jacket and slipped the clip into his trouser pocket. "You're very clever and talented."
"I plan to be a detective someday."
His smile grew. "Then we will be in the same business. I'm an investigator, too. For a private company."
"What company?"
"MacKay Security and Investigation." He peeked inside the tote bag. "There's something else in here. How interesting." He pulled out a lacy white bra.
"Put that back." Lara transferred the empty gun to her left hand, then made a grab for her bra with her right.
He moved quickly, whisking it out of her reach.
"Bellissima, why would you pack a bra in your bag?"
"So I can wear it, you creep. Now hand it over."
His gaze dropped to her low neckline. "Does this mean you are currently … without?"
"It's none of your business." She extended her hand, palm up. "Give it to me."
He continued to study her breasts. "I believe you are wearing a corset of some kind."
"I am not going to discuss my underwear with you."
His eyes lit up. "Then I'm afraid I will have to search you."
"What? Don't you dare."
He gave her an innocent look. "What choice do I have? You crashed my friend's wedding and brought a weapon with you. How do I know you don't have a knife strapped to your thigh?"
She gritted her teeth. "Because if I did, it would already be sticking in your chest."
His mouth twitched. "And then there is the questionable area surrounding your breasts. You must be wearing some sort of contraption, though I cannot detect any sign of one." He stepped toward her. "I will be forced to investigate further-"
"It's a Nu-Bra," she blurted out, then winced. How had this conversation veered so far off course? She ought to clonk him on the head with her empty gun.
"A new bra?"
"Nu-bra. Polyurethane cups that stick to your breasts. Now back to my original question-"
"They stick to your breasts?" He looked appalled, then focused once more on her chest. "Surely you did not glue them to yourself?"