can anybody date casually for years?”
“It’s a comfortable relationship. And none of your business.”
Casual, comfortable—neither fit Janine Duke. Elliot must be a world-class wuss. “So Pinky doesn’t know about Elliot?”
“Unless he follows me when I leave the resort, then I don’t see how Pinky could know.”
He refrained from grinning in triumph. “Good. We’ll leave comfy old Elliot out of the picture altogether. As of now, I’m your boyfriend. And nothing casual, either.”
“Pardon?”
He loved the way she said that. “I’m the love of your life now. When Pinky realizes I’m the real threat, he’ll forget about your father. He should reveal himself.”
She blinked slowly, several times. When she’d asked for Daniel’s help, she hadn’t the faintest idea what kind of plan he might come up with. She’d imagined he’d stake out the mailbox or interview people, or perhaps produce some magical bit of modern technology designed to ferret out secret admirers. “You’ll pose as my boyfriend,” she said slowly. “And I pretend I’m in love with you?” The absurdity tickled her. “That isn’t the sort of plan I can pull off.”
She expected laughter, not the burning intensity he focused on her eyes. Her throat went dry.
“You don’t have much choice, ma’am. If you haven’t figured out who Pinky is by now, you probably never will. At least, not until he attacks your father. Or you. We need to flush him out of the woodwork. We better do it before the party pushes him over the edge.”
“I don’t merely live at the resort, I work there. I can’t...”
“You can’t what?”
Have people gossiping. Laughing behind her back. Pointing. Snickering about her private life. “I’m hiring you as a professional. I expect a professional solution.”
“You expect a simple solution. I wish I had one for you.”
His sincerity shone through. As much as she hated his idea, she recognized its merits. Suffering some minor embarrassment meant little in comparison to protecting her father from harm. “You honestly think Pinky is dangerous?”
“He seems to believe you know who he is and you’re conspiring with him to keep the love affair secret. He’s growing frustrated. He wants to bring the relationship out in the open, but he doesn’t know how. So he’s using your dad as a scapegoat. That kind of thinking is extremely dangerous.”
She took a sip of water and her hand trembled. Water drops spread on the tablecloth. “Is that why your stalker committed suicide? Frustration?”
“She wanted to make sure she was always in my thoughts.” He made a facial shrug. “She got her wish.”
The server brought the appetizer. The smell of top-quality olive oil and the sight of perfectly fried batter glistening on the calamari distracted Janine. She worked hard to maintain her weight, but the calamari tempted her. She slipped a single piece onto her bread plate.
“Your plan will take Pinky’s attention off my father?”
“A real lover is far more threatening to a would-be lover than a father.”
Lover. Imagining Daniel as a lover was much too easy. “He’ll reveal himself?”
“There, I’m not so positive. He’s deeply invested in his anonymous act.”
She nibbled the calamari. It tasted as good as it looked. No amount of ignoring Pinky or wishful thinking was making him go away. Besides, how much damage could a pretend boyfriend do? “Very well, Mr. Tucker. We’ll try your plan.”
“Good. I’m looking forward to that Honeymoon Hideaway cabin. That will include champagne, right?”
“You get rid of Pinky, and I’ll supply enough champagne for you to bathe in every night.”
Wow, DANIEL THOUGHT as he entered the lobby of the Elk River lodge. He enjoyed skiing and had spent a lot of time in fancy resort towns like Vail, Aspen and Breckenridge. He liked the ambiance of ski lodges: crackling fires, healthy people, lots of talk. But this place, despite its size, felt like a home. It radiated a warmth that spoke of family and togetherness and happy times.
Employees moving throughout the lobby and lounge were easy to spot by their white sweaters, black trousers and brass name tags. Daniel doubted Pinky had direct contact with the public. His letters showed he was intelligent and reasonably well-read, but he’d be underemployed so he could concentrate on Janine. He probably worked in maintenance or housekeeping.
He ambled across the lobby. At the registration desk two young women inputted information into computers. Both raised their heads to watch his approach.
He leaned an arm on the counter. “Hi.”
A perky blonde, her name tag read Debbi, patted her hair and adjusted the neck of her sweater. “Welcome to Elk River. May I help you?”
“I sure hope so.”
Her eyelashes lowered coquettishly. “Do you have a reservation?”
“I’m here to see someone. Janine Duke. Do you know where I might find her?”
The other young woman swiveled her head like a deer going on alert. She was taller, younger and thinner than Janine, but he didn’t need to read “Kara” on her name tag to know this was Janine’s younger sister.
“Do you have a business appointment?” Kara asked.
“Actually, Kara,” he said and leaned both arms on the counter. “She and I have a date.”
“A date?” She sounded shocked. Next to her, Debbi cocked her head and blinked rapidly.
He glanced at a huge clock mounted on a far wall. It was framed by an impressive rack of elk antlers. He was three minutes early. “Didn’t she tell you about me? She told me about you.”
Kara patted her hair. “Good things, I hope?”
“She somehow failed to mention how pretty you are. You don’t think she’s jealous, do you?”
Blushing, she giggled behind her hand.
He stepped back and placed a hand over his heart. “Seeing you almost makes me sorry I’m madly in love with your sister. Ah well, such is fate. Maybe in our next lifetime—”
He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Janine stood under an open doorway leading to the east wing. Arms crossed, she glared at the scene taking place at the desk. She did not appear amused.
JANINE DIDN’T FEEL the slightest amusement. She resented having to ask for Daniel Tucker’s help. To have a lovesick moron stalking her from the shadows, mocking her attempts to roust him into the open and forcing her to plead for help as if she were
