The Virgin's Secret Marriage Read online

  Dread shone in Joe’s eyes. “No.”

  Emma drew a deep breath, and leaned in closer, to talk in an even quieter, more conciliatory tone. “Then, here is the plan….”

  By the time Emma had finished, it was time to start the press conference. Her father and Carolina Storm coach Thad Lantz, and his coaching staff, walked in. As he looked at the two of them, Saul Donovan’s expression did not change, but the look in his eyes did. He wanted to kill Joe. And he wasn’t too pleased with Emma, either. But that was just too bad, Emma thought resentfully, because she had a reputation to salvage here, too.

  A flirtatious look on her face, Emma stepped up to the microphone first. “I wish you all were baffled about why I might want to make a statement today, but unfortunately—” Emma smiled and shook her head in an exaggerated display of rueful disbelief “—I know you all know what little mishap I’d like to talk about here today.”

  Acting as if she were Scarlett O’Hara holding court amid a bevy of suitors, Emma batted her eyelashes flirtatiously as laughter rumbled through the room.

  The mostly male reporters leaned forward expectantly. Cameras whirred and clicked as Emma went on to explain more seriously, “Everyone around here is aware there have been some robberies in this area lately. So everyone is a little on edge to begin with. I wasn’t supposed to be staying at my parents’ estate on Friday night, but it was late, and I knew they were headed to Southern Pines, and I just wanted to crash. I thought I was alone in the house. I had no idea they had a houseguest—one Joe Hart.”

  Emma paused and lifted a hand toward Joe as more chuckles resonated in the room. “And, as I gather you have all figured out by now, poor Joe had no idea I had come in there, either. A lot of you have been out to the house for parties, so you know what a big place it is. About ten thousand square feet. Anyway, when I realized I wasn’t alone in the house, I got very frightened and I panicked, and Joe reacted with equal zeal to protect the place.”

  Emma wrinkled her nose in a playful mea culpa once more, making it all into a private joke she was letting the media in on. “Anyway, had I not dialed 911 before heading bravely down to get a rolling pin to protect myself, and run smack dab into the man I thought was a burglar, fresh out of the hot tub, and had the local police not been so quick to respond, or the indefatigable W-MOL Action News crew been at the ready, there would have been no film of the infamous event to put on the late news. But it did happen, and everyone has seen the most embarrassing moment in my entire life—” Emma turned and winked sympathetically at her “partner in crime” “—and probably Joe’s, too. And I thought you all deserved an explanation from me personally. As for what I learned from this, next time I want to crash at my parents’ place—” Emma jabbed a thumb at her chest “—I’m calling first!”

  The room erupted in laughter. And then applause.

  Blushing, Emma waved off the amusement and thanks of the reporters—for giving them a hot lead to use in their coverage of the story—and stepped back to a corner of the room.

  JOE HAD TO HAND IT TO EMMA. She was not only gutsy as heck, she was all grown-up. And it was the grown-up part that had spiked his pulse the most. Before, when he had known her, she had been a confused, albeit incredibly pretty girl with a penchant for hiding who she was. Now she was all woman, and confident as could be. Ready to put it all out there and let the chips fall where they may. It made her a lot harder to deal with, and a lot harder to forget.

  But enough of that, Joe thought as the team’s general manager finished the formal announcement and Joe stepped up to the microphone. It was time to get down to the business of why they were really all here. His future on the Carolina Storm hockey team. Assuming he still had a future. The set, closed look on Saul Donovan’s face at this moment guaranteed nothing except the fact that there would be hell to pay if Joe ever hurt his daughter again.

  Sobering, Joe looked out at the crowd. In the second row, was Tiffany Lamour, the Cable Sports News sports show host famous for making—and breaking—careers with her no-holds-barred interview style, and penchant for revenge. Joe had noted that Tiffany’d had a cynical smile on her face while Emma was talking, and an even more evil smile on her face as she listened to the team’s general manager go over the details of the three-year, seven-and-a-half-million-dollar contract he had signed on Friday night. The two-and-a-half mil a year was by far more than he had ever earned.

  “Any qualms about the no-trade clause?” the reporter from the Raleigh newspaper asked.

  “None,” Joe lied through his teeth.

  “Anything you want to add about what happened Friday night?” the W-MOL TV station reporter, Trevor Zwick, asked with a lascivious wink.

  Joe shook his head. “Emma’s already set the record straight. She’s told you what happened. I have nothing to add in that regard, except—” Joe flashed a regretful smile that was immediately caught on film by about fifty still and video cameras “—that I sure wish I’d found a better way to get on the evening news. Say with a hat trick during my first game for the Carolina Storm?”

  The crowd of sports-minded reporters laughed. They knew a three-goal game was every player’s dream. And rarely happened.

  Joe spent the next twenty minutes answering questions about what he hoped to bring to the team, how his style of play would fit in, and how good it felt to be back home, after the last ten years away from North Carolina.

  Finally, Tiffany Lamour took the floor. “Where are you planning to live, Joe?” she asked with a casual smile Joe didn’t begin to trust. “In Raleigh, close to the arena, or here in Holly Springs with your new family?”

  New family. What the hell was she talking about? “I’m not sure what you mean by ‘new,”’ Joe hedged carefully, suddenly feeling as if he had stumbled across an angry copperhead in the woods and was about to be subjected to a lethal bite. “As far as I know I don’t have any more brothers and sisters,” he joked, and saw Tiffany Lamour’s expression grow inexplicably even more triumphant. “Or nieces or nephews, either, in the last twelve years,” Joe continued in his jovial tone as everyone else around him continued to look as perplexed and caught off guard as he felt.

  “What about wives then?” Tiffany asked smugly.

  You could have heard a pin drop in the silent room.

  Although he felt as if the floor were now dropping out from under him, Joe did his best to keep his poker face. He shrugged his broad shoulders amiably. “I’m not married, Miss Lamour. You know that.”

  “Au contraire, Joe.” Tiffany rifled through some papers in her hand. She studied the page in front of her. “Because, according to reports I’ve just received, you eloped with a young girl seven years ago.”

  Joe stared at her. How the hell had Tiffany found out about that? How had anyone? He had paid handsomely to make that mistake go away. But knowing there was no way he could deny it now the press knew, he finally cleared his throat, shrugged again, as if it were so long ago he could barely remember, and said, “A youthful mistake.” And then some.

  Out of the corner of Joe’s eye, he could see that although her posture was still as self-assured as ever, the color was draining slowly but surely from Emma’s face, as well.

  While everyone watched with bated breath, Tiffany edged closer to the podium where Joe stood. “Is that how you still feel about your wife, Joe, because as far as the records show, you are still married to that young girl. Except she is no longer as young as she was, either.”

  Joe swore virulently and silently to himself as Tiffany continued her speculation triumphantly. “Although perhaps your wife is just as irresistible to you today as she was seven years ago. As was readily proved Friday night.”

  At the direct reference to the incident with Emma, Joe’s heart began to pound. He felt sick inside at the thought of what was about to be revealed.

  “What are you trying to say here, Ms. Lamour?” Saul Donovan thundered, getting angrily to his feet. He looked as if he had heard enough!

&
nbsp; Tiffany Lamour turned to Joe’s boss with a smile. “I’m just asking, Mr. Donovan, how you feel about your former, current and future son-in-law.”

  Chapter Four

  Pandemonium broke out in the press room. Her heart pounding, Emma caught the look of shock and outrage on her father’s face. Knowing she had to do something to save herself and Joe even further embarrassment, she stood and glared coldly at Tiffany Lamour. “I don’t know where you got your information—”

  Tiffany glanced calmly down at the papers in her hand. “Ye Olde Wedding Chapel in Nooseneck, Rhode Island. That’s a little town about thirty minutes or so outside Providence. At the time you were apparently in your freshman year at Brown University and Joe was playing for the Providence AHL team.” Tiffany flashed Joe and Emma a dazzling smile. “Which must be how you two met, right? At a minor league game?”

  Emma pushed aside the memories of the many nights she had eighty-sixed studying her freshman year to go to the arena to watch Joe drive the puck up the ice and into the net. She had been so wildly in love with him then, so naive…she’d thought the passion they felt for each other was strong enough to endure anything! Little had she known…just how quickly he would dump her in favor of his career.

  “Anyway, back to the chapel…” Tiffany Lamour continued her recitation with a self-satisfied smile. “Apparently that establishment is famous locally for doing a lot of uh—let’s just say—hasty or middle-of-the-night wedding ceremonies. As yours apparently was. Not that it’s hard for two nineteen-year-old-kids to get married in Rhode Island, in any case. The legal age is eighteen, and there are no blood tests or waiting period required.”

  The rest of the reporters regarded Tiffany in awe. Mostly male, none of them had thought to look into Joe or Emma’s private life after the Friday night brouhaha at the Donovan estate.

  But Tiffany Lamour had.

  And her questioning was reaping a lot of attention. Emma had no doubt this little Q and A would be replayed on news shows across the country. Probably reported in newspapers and magazines as well, since it was the kind of juicy, unexpected gossip the public reveled in about celebrities. And as one of the rising stars of the NHL, Joe Hart was indeed a celebrity.

  Joe smiled wryly, even as he laced a hand around Emma’s waist and dragged her near. He leaned down to murmur in her ear. “I guess we’ve been found out, sweetheart,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  The men in the room chuckled in equal parts speculation and sympathy. Saul Donovan looked as if he was going to leap across the room and punch out Joe. Coach Thad Lantz just shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe the messes his players could get themselves in.

  “And now that the secret is out,” Joe continued, taking her other hand securely in the warmth and strength of his and squeezing it hard, “I think I’d like some time alone with my—with Emma.”

  The assistant coaches and trainers stepped aside, forming a gauntlet so Joe and Emma could exit the room without the reporters and their cameras following. As soon as they hit the outside corridor where security men with badges were standing around, Joe took Emma’s hand. “You know the back way out of here?” he asked.

  Emma nodded. As eager to flee her father’s wrath and earn them some time to regroup as Joe, she tightened her fingers in his and led the way.

  WHEN THEY REACHED THE STAFF parking lot outside the arena, Joe pulled the keys from his pocket and hit the unlock button on the remote. “Let’s get out of here before we talk,” he said, yanking open the door of his low-slung sports car.

  Knowing the reporters couldn’t and wouldn’t be far behind, Emma agreed. “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “My attorney’s office. I have a feeling we’re going to need Ross Dempsey’s help to get us out of this mess.”

  Emma knew Ross Dempsey. The handsome bachelor was one of the most prominent sports-and-entertainment attorneys in the area. He represented a lot of the Carolina Storm hockey players and managed their business affairs. He had been at her parents’ Holly Springs estate for numerous social gatherings. Plus, he understood the rigorous demands of professional hockey, on the ice and off. And would know exactly how devastating a revelation like this could be to someone like Joe.

  “So what did you ever do to Tiffany Lamour to get her to come after you—us—like that?” Emma asked as Joe drove away from the arena.

  Her question had been rhetorical. But she could tell by the way Joe hunched his shoulders that she had hit a nerve. “It’s a long story,” he muttered, refusing to so much as slant her a glance.

  Emma knew guilt and the desire to keep something private when she saw it. She tugged the hem of her yellow summer suit down toward her knees. “We’ve got time.”

  Lips tightening, Joe just kept driving.

  His silence irked her. “And given the fact I am now—by association with you—one of her targets,” Emma continued as she tried to get a little more comfortable in her seat by pushing some of the electronic buttons on the side, “I think I have the right to know.”

  Joe sighed as they came up to a traffic light. He tightened his hands on the steering wheel and cast a glance over at her. “What do you know about Tiffany?” he demanded in a low, gruff tone that made her even more aware of him.

  Emma shrugged as Joe’s gaze swept over her, head to toe, in a boldly assessing manner that had her skin heating wherever his eyes had touched. “Nothing really, except that she hosts that popular sports show on the Cable Sports News network.” Which featured a segment at the end called “Bad Boys of the Week.” Emma had a feeling who the next Bad Boy was going to be.

  “A network that her daddy owns,” Joe interjected meaningfully.

  Emma paused, not sure what Joe’s point was. “So?”

  “So—” Joe pushed down on the accelerator as the light changed and roared out into the intersection “—nothing Tiffany does is ‘out of line’ because she knows her father isn’t going to fire her.”

  Emma curled her hands around the armrests, tension stiffening every inch of her five-foot-six frame. “You’re scaring me.”

  Joe shook his head and shrugged off Emma’s complaint. “Tiffany Lamour’s a scary lady.”

  My opinion exactly, Emma thought, recalling the deliberate way Tiffany had set out to humiliate them both, and gain maximum advantage out of her sensational discovery.

  The question was why she had done it that way. Why Tiffany had seemed to be gleaning some sort of personal satisfaction in publically embarrassing both Joe and Emma that way. It had seemed to go beyond the normal news-hound on a story thing. To cross over into the personal-feminine-vendetta sort of thing.

  Which begged Emma’s next question. “Did you ever date her?” And if so, why did Emma care? Why was she already feeling just a tad jealous at the thought?

  “No. I did not date Ms. Lamour. And therein,” Joe continued in a low, clipped tone, “lies the problem.”

  Emma paused as Joe turned into the parking garage adjacent to the Hanover Towers building in downtown Raleigh, where flashing signs directed them up to the sixth floor. “I don’t get it.”

  Joe drove slowly, looking for a space. “Tiffany likes to sleep with the men she interviews.”

  Emma gulped. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear this, but also knew she couldn’t afford to get blindsided again by facts of which she was not aware. She turned to Joe as he located a space and guided his sports car into it. “Have you ever been on her show?”

  “No.” Joe cut the engine and removed the key. “And I don’t intend to go on it, either.”

  “Because you’re afraid she will sexually harass you?” Emma got out of the car, into the warm humid morning air. Joe did the same.

  Joe hit the automatic lock button on the keyless entry pad on his key chain, and the car responded with a flash of headlights and an affirmative beep. Joe held out his arm, gesturing Emma to walk with him. “Because I know that if I do go on the show, and she does interview me, and I don’t
go out to dinner with her afterward and take her to bed, that she will then A, never have me on her show again, and B, do everything in her considerable power to trash me to TV viewers and within the league.”

  Emma was shivering as Joe wrapped his arm protectively around her shoulders, and led her to the elevators that would take them down to the ground floor. “You’re serious.”

  “Dead serious.” Joe released a weary breath and punched the down button next to the painted steel doors.

  The doors slid open. Emma stepped inside. “She does this all the time?”

  Joe followed her and punched ground floor. “Every day.” He leaned against the back wall with Emma.

  “And no one at her own network stops her.” Emma was amazed at that. Even if her father did own CSN, one would think the powers that be would be worried about lawsuits and bad publicity. Not to mention the new sexual harassment laws.

  Joe closed his eyes and rubbed at the tense skin over his brows. “First off, no self-respecting jock is going to go to the media claiming he can’t fend off the passes of some woman. He’d be laughed out of this country. And probably off his team. Secondly, there’s really no way to prove this is what Tiffany is doing. She’s very subtle in her approach. It’s just understood. It’s eye contact. A brush of her hand against the back of yours. She knows the fine legal line and she stays on her side of it.”

  The doors opened and Joe and Emma stepped out. Mid-morning, the cavernous garage was mostly deserted. “Do people at CSN know what’s going on?” she asked as she fell in step beside Joe.

  Joe rested his hand on the back of her waist as he guided her through the shadowy labyrinth of parked cars toward the exit. “I’m sure they’ve figured out by now who is on the top of her hit list and who is not.”

  Emma lengthened her strides in an attempt to match his. “And they haven’t done anything to stop her, either?” Emma asked, amazed.