Read Online Bringing Home a Bachelor by Karen Kendall - Free Book Online

Sanchezs had their front door kicked down, clean off its hinges. But their alarm went off, so whoever it was skedaddled before any other harm was done.”
    Richard was that kind of harmless guy who’d use the term skedaddled . Pete wished there were more of them left in the world.
    “D’you know the Sanchez family, Pete?”
    He shook his head. “They must have moved in after I left for college.”
    “Mmm. That’s right, you headed down to Texas and got yourself some southern manners along with that BA in business.” Richard winked.
    Jocelyn, who’d been applying powder to her nose, snapped shut her compact with a little more force than necessary. “He learned how to sweet-talk women, didn’t you, Peter?”
    O-kaaaay. Pete chuckled mildly. “Well, I don’t know about that, Mrs. E. I haven’t been all that lucky in the babe department lately.”
    She shot him the lipless smile of a cobra. “That’s not what I hear.”
    Richard’s eyebrows shot towards his hairline. “Jocelyn,” he said in reproving tones.
    Oh, hell. Did Melinda’s father know, too? No, he just looked puzzled by his wife’s hostility. Pete hoped that she wouldn’t explain anything to him. He felt awkward enough as it was.
    “So!” He clapped Richard on the shoulder. “Are you staying at Playa Bella tonight, or driving home?”
    “We’re driving home. But we’ll see you bright and early at the wedding breakfast tomorrow.” Jocelyn really had the cobra thing down: she managed to move her head forward and then back while making the barest shimmy with her shoulders. It shouldn’t have been menacing, especially not on a five-four blonde, but it sent a clear warning signal down Pete’s spine.
    “Great,” he said jovially. “You know we’ll do it up right. Playa Bella is famous for our mimosas, and the French toast is unrivaled. Now, do you have your valet ticket? I’ll walk you out.”
    “Ah. Very nice of you, Pete.” Richard preempted his wife, who’d opened her mouth to refuse the offer. He fished around in his jacket pockets for the ticket.
    Pete would have sworn he saw just the tip of a black, forked tongue flicker out of Jocelyn’s mouth, and blinked. Had he gotten some bad fish?
    “Here we are!” Richard produced the wayward valet ticket and handed it over. They all made their way out to the marble foyer. One of the doormen opened a fifteen-foot-high entrance door upon sight of them, and Pete cast a glance heavenward in thanks that he was about to escape from Melinda’s mother.
    They stepped out into the humid Miami night air, he dealt with the valet guys and then murmured a good-night. Within seconds he was breathing a sigh of relief back in the air-conditioning, practically hiding behind a giant, ornate floral arrangement in the lobby.
    He took a step towards his room, and another. And then something jabbed him in the small of the back. It felt like a gun.
    Pete spun around and discovered that he’d been held up by Jocelyn’s long fingernail.
    “I want to talk to you,” she hissed. “Not now. Not at breakfast. Tuesday morning. Eleven o’clock.”
    “I, uh, believe I have an appointment scheduled then,” Pete stammered.
    “Then cancel it.” And with that, Jocelyn coiled herself back out the door.

8
    M ELINDA WOKE BLEARILY to a gentle tapping on her hotel room door.
    “Room Service,” came a faint call.
    She frowned, but got out of bed and pulled on a robe. “I didn’t order anything,” she said to the uniformed maid outside.
    “Compliments of Mr. Dale.” The tiny woman came in with a tray and set it down on the room’s desk. “Coffee, cream and sugar.”
    Mel got a couple of dollars out of her purse to give to the woman, and stared at the tray once she’d left. Next to the beautifully folded, snowy-white napkin was a single red rose. And under the rose was a cream envelope.
    She stared at the envelope suspiciously as she poured a cup of coffee and mixed cream and sugar into it before taking a