Afterward, he smoothed her skirt back in place then disappeared into her bathroom with its antique vanity, Italian mirror, and Colefax & Fowler wallpaper. When he came out, he looked cool and unruffled. She wanted to weep. Instead, she gave him her iciest glare, strode to the door, and yanked it open.

The corner of his mouth twitched with amusement. He made his way to her side and traced the lipstick smear on her cheek with his finger. She refused to flinch. With another smile, he stepped into the hallway and walked toward the ornate brass elevator. Before he got there, he turned back and spoke for the first time.

“Are we clear now?”

Chapter Twelve

Annabelle and Heath left Chicago Friday afternoon. The Wind Lake Campground was located in northeastern Michigan about an hour from the pretty town of Grayling. Kevin and Molly had been there all week and the other book club members were driving up, but Mr. Super Agent couldn’t spare that much time, so he’d snagged a ride for them on a friend’s corporate jet. While he made phone calls, Annabelle, who’d never been on a private jet, gazed out the window and tried to talk herself into relaxing. So what if she and Heath were sharing a cottage for the weekend? Most of the time he’d either be hanging out with the men or trying to impress Phoebe, so she’d hardly see him, which was definitely for the best, because all those male pheromones he emitted were getting to her. Fortunately, she understood the difference between biological attraction and lasting affection. She might be horny, but she wasn’t entirely self-destructive.

A gray rental SUV waited for them at the small airstrip. They were only about eighty miles from Mackinac Island, and the warm afternoon air carried the crisp, piney scent of the north woods. Heath grabbed her bag along with his own and carried them to the car, then went back for his golf clubs. She’d strained her budget to buy a few new things for the trip, including her buff slacks, which had thin brown stripes that made her legs look longer. A flirty bronze top set off tiny amber eardrops, a Christmas gift from Kate. She’d gotten her split ends trimmed, and for once her hair wasn’t giving her trouble. Heath wore another of his expensive polo shirts, this one moss green, along with stone-colored chinos and loafers.

He set the suitcases in the back then tossed her the keys. “You drive.”

She repressed a smile as she climbed behind the wheel. “With each passing day, your reasons for wanting a wife become clearer.”

He shoved his laptop in the back and settled into the passenger seat. She consulted Molly’s directions, then pulled out onto a winding two-lane highway. She wondered how he’d spent the Fourth. She hadn’t seen him since Wednesday, when she’d introduced him to the De Paul harpist, whom he found intelligent, attractive, but too serious. After the date, he’d pressed her for more information about Gwen. Someday very soon she’d have to tell him the truth about that. Not a pleasant thought.