Pillow Chase. Jeanie London
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Название: Pillow Chase
Автор: Jeanie London
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon Blaze
isbn: 9781472029126
isbn:
“What is it you want from Miranda?” he asked.
“This is the first time we’re all together since Westfalls Academy,” Victoria said earnestly. “The first time Mother and Aunt Suzanne have been in the same room in years. Come the end of the week, Naughty Nuptials will be over. We’ll all go back to living our separate lives. We won’t get this chance again, and if there’s any way we can solve this problem, I think we should try. Since Miranda’s a part of the family, she should be involved.”
“What about talking to the senator?” he said. “Because Miranda’s right, you don’t want to raise any red flags with your investigation. Who knows what might crop up.”
Victoria gave a huff of exasperation. “I agree with you, bro-in-law, but do you honestly think he’ll tell us what we want to know when he hasn’t even told his daughters?”
In a normal family, Troy’s suggestion would have been a good one. In the Knight family, simple communication would have done the trick. But Miranda didn’t come from a normal family. Her grandfather was a very strong-willed, very stern man. In fact, she had a really hard time imagining any of them—for all their bravado—confronting him about secrets from his past.
Miranda met Troy’s gaze and squeezed his hand to let him know how much she appreciated his efforts to run interference with these two schemers.
“Why don’t we just talk to our respective mothers and encourage them to get together,” she suggested. “If they want to, they will. If not, no harm no foul. They’ll think we’ve all lost our minds, but no one will wind up in an awkward position. You’re right in one regard, Laura. I don’t really know you, but I assume you don’t want this town to start gossiping about your parents again.”
“Of course not,” she said. “But I do think we need to put the past behind us if we can.”
“You’re looking for a miracle.”
A slow, easy smile spread across her face. “It so happens that we specialize in miracles at Falling Inn Bed.”
“Forgive me, Laura, but you specialize in sex,” Miranda said, squelching her impatience. “You might pretty it up like you did in my suite, but I saw the dungeon Victoria’s staying in.”
Her sister laughed. “It was the rack. I told you.”
Miranda only stared at the two of them, uncomfortable with being the object of their amusement.
“Ladies, would you mind explaining how you plan to avoid raising red flags?” Troy asked.
Victoria launched into a breathless account of how they would delve into their grandparents’ lives, and if anyone got interested—which she was sure they wouldn’t—then they’d just pretend to be tracing their genealogy.
As Miranda listened to her sister and Laura, she agreed their plan might yield the answers they were looking for without inviting any interest from the press. But she wasn’t willing to take that chance. Not when they had no idea what they might find.
Before she had a chance to make her argument, though, Troy said, “I can help out with the records. It’s going to be tough to find out about the senator’s orders during his military career, but I’ve got some access. I should be able to get basic information.”
For a space of a heartbeat, Miranda could only stare up at her husband.
He was offering to help?
She recognized his determination to assist in this plan, despite her attempts to convince these two otherwise.
“This is a family situation, Miranda,” he said. “And I’m family. I don’t mind helping if it will get us some answers without cluing anyone in to what we’re doing.”
She still couldn’t manage anything more than a stare, so he leaned close and whispered for her alone, “Damage control.”
“I knew there was a reason you were my favorite bro-in-law.” Victoria launched forward to kiss his cheek. “You’re hired. So what about you, big sis? Are you on board, too?”
All gazes turned to her, and it was then that she finally realized what was happening.
She was getting dragged into this madness whether she wanted to or not.
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