LITMIR.BIZ

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have a phone?”

      “Of course I have a phone.”

      “You should make a ransom call. My fiancé is from a rich family. They’ll pay you.”

      At least she hoped the Gerhards would pay to get her back. She was certain Vern would be willing. His father, maybe not so much.

      * * *

      Jackson hated that he was frightening Crista. But he was operating on the fly here. Taking her a quarter mile offshore on Lake Michigan was the best he could come up with to keep her safe but under wraps. He wasn’t about to tie her up in a basement while Mac and some of his other guys looked into Vern Gerhard’s love life.

      “You’re going to jail, you know,” she said for about the twenty-fifth time.

      She stood on the deck of the boat, gazing back at the mansions along the coastline, their lights coming up as the sun sank away. Her extravagant white wedding gown rustled in the breeze. The intricate lace-and bead-covered skirt was bell shaped, billowing out from a tight waist, while the strapless top accentuated her gorgeous figure.

      She was right. He was taking a very stupid risk. But the alternative had been to let the wedding go ahead. Which he could have done. In fact, he should have done. He owed nothing to her father and nothing to his own father. And Crista was all but a stranger to him. She was an intelligent adult, and she’d made her choice in Vern. He should have walked away.

      “I’m hoping you won’t press charges,” he said, moving to stand beside her.

      “In what universe would I not press charges?”

      Though he knew she was frightened, her expression was defiant. He couldn’t help but be impressed with her spirit.

      “In the universe where I did you a favor.”

      “You destroyed my wedding. Do you have any idea how important this was to my mother-in-law? How much she planned and spent?”

      “To your mother-in-law?”

      “Yes.”

      “Not to you?”

      Her expression faltered. “Well, me, too, of course. It was my wedding.”

      “It was an odd way to put it, worrying about your mother-in-law first.”

      “What I meant was, from my own perspective, I can get married any old time, in the courthouse, in Vegas, whatever. But she has certain expectations, a certain standing in the community. She wants to impress her friends and the rest of the family.”

      “She sounds charming.”

      “It comes with the Gerhard territory.” There was a resignation to her tone.

      “What about Vern? How did he feel about the opulent wedding?”

      “He was all for it. He’s close to his family. He wants them to be happy.”

      “Does he want you to be happy?”

      Crista glanced sharply up at Jackson. “Yes, he wants me to be happy. But he knows I don’t sweat the small stuff.”

      Jackson lifted a brow. “The small stuff being your own wedding?”

      She shrugged her bare shoulders, and he was suddenly seized by an urge to run his palms over them, to test the smoothness of her skin. Was she cold out here on the lake?

      “It’ll work just as well with three hundred people in the room as it would with two witnesses and a judge.”

      Jackson stifled a chuckle. “You sure don’t sound like the average bride.”

      Her tone turned dry. “The average bride doesn’t have a five-hundred-dollar wedding bouquet.”

      “Seriously?”

      “I don’t know for sure, but I think that’s in the ballpark.”

      Jackson drew back to take in the length of her. “And the dress?”

      She spread her arms. “Custom-made in Paris.”

      “You flew to Paris for a wedding dress.”

      “Don’t be ridiculous. The designer flew to Chicago.”

      This time Jackson did laugh. “You have got to be kidding.”

      “And that was only the start. I’m wearing antique diamonds.” She tilted her head to show him her ears.

      He wanted to kiss her neck. It was ridiculous, given the circumstances, but there was something incredibly sensual about the curve of her neck, the line of her jaw, the lush red of her lips.

      “And you should see my underwear,” she said.

      Their gazes met. She took in his stare and obviously saw a flare of desire. Those gorgeous green eyes widened in surprise, and she took a step back.

      He wanted to tell her he’d give pretty much anything to see her underwear. But he kept his mouth firmly shut.

      “You wouldn’t,” she said, worry in her tone.

      “I wouldn’t,” he affirmed. “I won’t. I’m not going to try anything out of line.” He turned his attention to the shoreline.

      “Will you take me back?” she asked.

      “I doubt there’s anybody left at the church.”

      “They’ll be crazy with worry,” she said. “They’ll have called the police by now.”

      “The police won’t take a missing-person report for twenty-four hours.”

      “You don’t know my future in-laws.”

      “I know the Chicago Police Department.”

      “Why are you doing this?”

      “I was hired to look into Vern Gerhard’s integrity.”

      “By who?”

      Jackson shook his head. “I have a strict policy of client confidentiality.”

      Given their understandably fractured relationship, bringing Trent’s name into it would be the fastest way to completely lose her trust. Not that he’d blame her. He felt the same about anything his own father touched.

      “But you don’t have a strict policy against kidnapping innocent people?” she asked.

      “To be honest, this is the first time it’s come up.”

      “I am going to press charges.” It was clear she was serious.

      There was no denying that the situation had spiraled out of control. But there was also nothing to do but keep moving forward. If he took her back now, the Gerhards would definitely have him arrested. His only hope was to find proof of Vern’s infidelity and turn Crista against her fiancé.

      His phone rang. He kept eye contact with her as he reached for it.

      It was Mac, his right-hand man.

      “Hey,” Jackson answered.

      “Everything okay so far?” asked Mac.

      “Yeah.” Jackson turned away from Crista and moved along the deck toward the bridge. “You come up with anything?”

      “Rumors, yes. But nothing that gives us proof. Norway’s looking into Gracie.”

      “Pictures would be good.”

      “Videotape better.”

      “I’d take videotape,” said Jackson. “Is somebody on the family?”

      “I am.”

      “And?”

      “They’ve contacted the police, but they’re being waved off until morning. I guess runaway brides aren’t that unusual.”

      “If

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