Authors: Angela Claire
HiddenDepths (20 page)
The gunman went back up and Frannie followed with a smile.
“Don’t you two dally down here!”
They barely had their clothes back on—and clothes in
Andrea’s case still meant that barely-to-her-thighs dress shirt, since the
investment banker seemed to have no female guest clothes on board—when the
first person from the police boat came down.
And it wasn’t a policeman.
“Evan! Oh my heavens, are you all right?”
Feeling a little less surprised than he should have been, he
kissed his mother’s cheek. “Fine. What are you doing here?”
Michael and Vanny brought up the rear, Michael talking in
low tones to a policeman—not the captain Evan had talked to that afternoon but
a policeman he’d never seen—who then immediately went to Stavros’ body.
“Hi there,” Vanny said. “We came to rescue you but I think
we’re a beat behind.”
Evan grinned at her as Michael said, “Miss Prentiss. Nice to
see you again.”
Andrea grinned herself. “You too, Mr. Reynolds. Hi, Vanny.”
Vanny shot forward and hugged Andrea, hard and fierce,
taking her off guard and making her laugh.
“You!” Vanny said. “You’re in a lot of trouble.”
Evan pulled his lover to his side, kissing her temple. “Not
anymore.”
“Oh yes she is,” Michael said, deadpan. “With us.”
“That’s right!” Vanny added. “Not only have you been
tormenting one of my favorite almost-new-brothers-in-law with running away all
the time, you’ve been tormenting me and Michael by leaving us in the lurch on
this whole wedding thing.”
Andrea laughed. “Isn’t Miss Grady helping?”
“To paraphrase,” Michael said, “I knew Miss Prentiss. I
worked with Miss Prentiss. And Miss Grady is no Miss Prentiss.”
“Yeah, well, plan your own wedding, guys,” Evan warned.
“Andrea’s going to be planning ours.”
His intended’s mouth dropped open. Okay, he supposed he
should have made it clear she was his intended before dropping that bombshell,
but what the hell.
“A wedding!” his mother shrieked, and he glanced sideways at
her, seeing as how he’d never heard that particular pitch out of his usually
decorous mother. But it seemed as if it was on the happy end of the spectrum of
sounds. Amanda Evans was grinning as widely as the rest of them.
“Do you mean it, Evan? You’re getting married? I might
actually have grandchildren someday?”
“Well, don’t rush us or anything, Mom. I just popped the
question.”
“Or by the looks of it, actually
didn’t
,” Vanny
pointed out.
Two Weeks Later
It turned out that Andrea, as they had all agreed to
continue to call her, was remarkably efficient at planning weddings, as
remarkably efficient as she was at most things. Moreover, two weddings were no
more trouble for her to plan than one.
Of course it helped that the grooms were pretty much
threatening elopement if the weddings did not transpire in record time and that
the brides, herself and Vanny, had quite a lot of resources at their disposal
to accomplish this feat.
Oh, and it helped that only family members were invited.
That cut down on the planning quite a bit, although the whole Reynolds family
itself required quite a few private jets and helicopters and yachts to get to
Evan’s island for the weddings. The Donald family and the Stavros family each
had just their lone representative. The only non-family guests were Tommy O’Neal
and Cassie Bailey, who Andrea had insisted on inviting for some reason that she
claimed was related to their caring for Bingo.
It ended up being a lively crowd as Evan and Andrea, and
Vanny and Michael respectively took their vows in a double ceremony on the
beach of the island, the lighthouse in view. The reception was a picnic, more
or less, that Damien Reynolds groused about, especially when he noticed his
ex-wife, the mother of the groom, or one of them anyway, resplendent in a peach
outfit, flirting with her date, the local grocer.
Chris Reynolds sipped a glass of champagne and slapped Evan
on the back, admiring his brother’s new wife in her antique-lace cream wedding
gown, fitted at the waist, tasteful but low cut. “I cannot believe you got
Andrea Prentiss, old man. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
Chris, like the rest of the Reynolds family, now knew
Andrea’s background and true roots, but in an odd twist continued to seem to
regard her in what to them had been her most important role—Michael’s unflappable
assistant.
“I’m a lucky guy,” Evan agreed, watching his wife talking to
Cassie, probably apologizing to her yet again for getting her on the wrong end
of a gun.
“Yep, you and Michael have got some good ones, but for those
of us left on the field, you provided some nice eye candy here.” Chris nodded
at Cassie, looking hot and resplendent in a short pink minidress. “Though I
have to admit she’s a little young.”
Evan eyed Tommy O’Neal, who for his part just looked out of
place and uncomfortable in an ill-fitting suit as Evan’s father for some reason
grilled him. Probably trying to set him up on some cockamamie internship.
“A word of warning, Chris, don’t set your sights on Cassie
unless you want a knife through your ribs while you’re not looking.”
His brother glanced at the grocer.
“Really? Her dad doesn’t look that bad. He seems pretty friendly when he’s
talking to your mom. I’m sure he allows his daughter to, ah, date.”
“I know your version of dating, bro, and it’s not her dad
I’m talking about. That kid over there is wild about her.”
Chris glanced over at the competition. “I could take him.”
“In a fair fight maybe but when it comes to that girl, that
kid won’t fight fair. Trust me.”
They laughed.
“It’s like that, is it?” Chris shrugged. “Oh well, the
girl’s loss,” he said amiably, wandering off.
Andrea drifted over and Evan wound his arm around her waist.
“My mother wants grandchildren,” he whispered in her ear.
“So I heard. Well, you’re certainly doing your part.”
“I may never wear a condom again. We could have an island
full of children,” he warned.
She laughed. “We’ll take that slow, shall we?”
He kissed her neck. “Hey, what the hell did you plan for a
honeymoon?”
“For Michael and Vanny? Greece, of course.”
“Who cares about them? I meant us.”
“Oh us. Kicking everybody off the island, of course,” she
murmured.
He grinned. “Done.” And with a whistle, he proved he had
every bit as much Reynolds in him as Evans and he kicked the whole bunch of
them off the island.
The End
Angela Claire’s first love was romance novels, but she
resolved to give them up temporarily for law books (which were considerably
less fun). In a quest for a “responsible” career, she headed off to Harvard law
school, obtained her diploma and settled into a corporate law practice in New
York City—which she hated! After staying in the rat race long enough to pay
back her massive student loans, Angela returned to her roots in the Midwest and
is working as a lawyer at a more leisurely pace than big city law firm life
would allow. A multi-published romance author, she writes in her spare time and
finds romance in real life with her husband. Angela would love to hear from
you.
Angela welcomes comments from readers. You can find her
website and email addresses on her
author
bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.
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Angela
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Ellora’s Cave Publishing
Hidden Depths
ISBN 9781419922848
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Hidden Depths Copyright © 2013 Angela Claire
Edited by Shannon Combs
Cover design by Kelly Martin
Cover photography by Nejron Photo, Kaponia
Aliaksei/shutterstock.com
Electronic book publication November 2013
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