out the best plan. “It’s my father.”
“MacAllister’s ice cream,” Doug repeated. “Sonofabitch. He makes the best damn fudge ripple in the country.”
“Of course.”
It hit him then that she wasn’t just a classy decorator but the daughter of one of the richest men in the country. She was worth millions. Millions. And if he was caught with her, he’d be up on kidnapping charges before he could ask for his court appointed lawyer. Twenty years to life, he thought, dragging a hand through his hair. Doug Lord sure knew how to pick ′em.
“Look, sugar, this changes things.”
“It certainly does,” she muttered. “Now I have to call Daddy. Oh, and Uncle Maxie, too.”
“Yeah.” He scooped up the last forkful of eggs, deciding he’d better eat while he had the chance. “Why don’t you figure out my bill, and we’ll—”
“Daddy is going to think I’m being held for ransom or something.”
“Exactly.” He grabbed the last piece of toast. Since she’d figure out a way for him to pay for the meal, he might as well enjoy it. “And I don’t want to end up with a cop’s bullet in my head either.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Whitney dismissed him with a wave of the hand while she refined her plan of approach. “I’ll get around Daddy,” she murmured. “I’ve been doing it for years. I should be able to get him to wire me some money while I’m at it.”
“Cash?”
She shot him a long, appraising look. “That certainly got your attention.”
He set the toast aside. “Look, gorgeous, if you know how to get around your old man, who’m I to argue? And, while the plastic’s nice, and the cash you can get with the plastic’s nice, a little extra of the green stuff would help me sleep a lot easier.”
“I’ll take care of it.” She walked to the connecting doors, then paused. “You really could use a shower and a shave, Douglas, before we go shopping.”
He stopped in the act of rubbing his chin. “Shopping?”
“I’m not going to Madagascar with one blouse and one pair of slacks. And I’m certainly not going anywhere with you wearing a shirt with only one sleeve. We’ll do something about your wardrobe.”
“I can pick out my own shirts.”
“After seeing that fascinating jacket you had on when we met, I have my doubts.” With this, she closed the door between them.
“It was a disguise,” he yelled at her, then stormed off toward the bathroom. Damn woman always had to have the last word.
But he had to admit, she had taste. After a two-hour shopping whirlwind, he was carrying more packages than he cared to, but the cut of his shirt helped conceal the slight bulge of the envelope that was again strapped to his chest. And he liked the way the loose linen felt against his skin. The same way he liked the way Whitney’s hips moved under the thin white dress. Still, there was no use being too agreeable.
“What the hell am I going to do with a suit tramping around in a forest in Madagascar?”
She glanced over and adjusted the collar of his shirt. He’d fussed about wearing baby blue, but Whitney reaffirmed her opinion that it was an excellent color for him. Oddly enough, he looked as though he’d been born wearing tailored slacks. “When one travels, one should be prepared for anything.”
“I don’t know how much walking we’re going to have to do, sugar, but I’ll tell you this. You’re carrying your own gear.”
She tipped down her new signature sunglasses. “A gentleman to the last.”
“You bet.” He stopped beside a drugstore and shifted the packages under one arm. “Look, I need some things in here. Give me a twenty.” When she only lifted a brow, he swore. “Come on, Whitney, you’re going to mark it down in your damn account book anyway. I feel naked without any cash.”
She gave him a sweet smile as she reached in her purse. “It didn’t bother you to be naked this morning.”
Her lack of reaction to his body still irked. He plucked the bill from her hand. “Yeah, we’ll take that up again sometime. I’ll meet you upstairs in ten minutes.”
Pleased with herself, Whitney crossed to the hotel and breezed through the lobby. She was having more fun annoying Doug Lord than she’d had in months. She shifted the smart leather tote she’d bought to her other hand and pushed the button for her floor.
Things were looking good, she decided. Her father had been relieved that she was safe and