Double Dare Read online

  Double Dare

  By

  Rhonda Nelson

  Copyrights

  eBooks are not transferrable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of these works.

  This book is an original publication of the author who wrote the story herein contained.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  “Double Dare” copyright © 2011 by Rhonda Nelson.

  This book has been published by Rhonda Nelson at Smashwords.

  Cover Art by Dee Tenorio, Laideebug Digital

  Formatting by Laideebug Digital, www.laideebugdigital.com

  All Rights Are Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors’ rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Table Of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  About The Author

  Chapter One

  “Drive, Jaynes!”

  In a blur of white satin and lace, Louisa Marie Honeycutt dove into the waiting limousine, slid across the expansive leather seat, then with a furtive look out the tinted window, issued the desperate order again.

  Befuddled, her driver started to protest. “But—”

  “Now!” Lou demanded, frantically battling the clinging net of her veil from her face.

  Started by her vehemence, Jaynes’ usually light foot hit the accelerator hard. Tires squealed as Lou’s head snapped back from the unexpected jolt.

  Lou blinked, then sighed with overwhelming relief as the big car swiftly lengthened the distance between herself and the church.

  She’d done it! She’d escaped! Narrowly, and admittedly not by conventional methods, but the fact remained that she was free.

  Giddy with a sense of liberation, Lou clamped a hand over mouth to keep a wicked giggle from escaping.

  “Might I ask where we are going, miss?” Jaynes’s distressed voice asked hesitantly.

  Lou frowned. Her mental cheerleading session came to a halt. “I haven’t gotten that far in my plan yet, Jaynes. Just get as far away from the church as you can,” she instructed grimly. The satin of her gown hissed as she shifted to a move comfortable position.

  Eyes darting nervously between the road and the rearview mirror, her timid driver cleared his throat.

  “May I be so bold as to ask a question, miss?”

  In the process of removing the dratted veil from her head, Lou sighed patiently. Though she was certain Jaynes had played a part of spy for her exasperating overprotective father, Lou had always had a soft spot in her heart for the aging driver. For whatever reason, she had the uncanny notion he returned her feelings.

  “Permission granted, Jaynes. Ask away.”

  “I was, uh, curious as to the w-whereabouts of your, er…groom?”

  Lou removed the last pin from the veil, wadded it up and banked it off the glass into the floorboard, then set about removing the pins from the elaborate knot of curls on her head. Excitement bubbled through her and she resisted the urge to do a wriggly little dance in her seat.

  “I imagine he’s at the altar,” she replied matter-of-factly. “Where I left him.”

  Jaynes’ eyes bugged and a little choking sound emerged from his throat. “Uh, miss. This— This is highly irregular. Your father will not be pleased. I must return—”

  Lou’s grin disappeared and her gaze snapped to his. “You’ll do no such thing. As for my father, I’ll deal with him…at a later time.” An image of her intimidating sire flashed before Lou’s eyes, momentarily taking the starch out of her newfound spine. Lou winced. She’d also be forced to deal with her equally intimidating almost-mother-in-law, but she, too, would have to wait.

  “For now,” she told Jaynes, “you’ll do as I say, and I say we will not be returning to the church. Understood?”

  Jaynes nodded reluctantly. “Fine, miss.”

  One more hurdle taken care of, she thought. Lou tugged the last pin from her hair, then shook it free and massaged her tender scalp. Now what? Now what? Now what? she wondered. She couldn’t go back to the house. Her father would surely find her, then drag her kicking and screaming back to the sacrificial altar of marital bliss.

  Humph. Like hell.

  James Whitehorn Honeycutt would simply have to find another way to merge Honeycutt Foods with Reedwater Snacks. Regardless of what her father thought, the merger wasn’t worth her freedom, or her happiness.

  “Miss?”

  “Yes, Jaynes?” Lou said absently, her mind occupied, her gaze trained on the changing sky—partly cloudy, partly clear—as they neared the downtown Atlanta area.

  “Y-you realize, of course, that this is only temporary,” he offered hesitantly.

  Lou met his gaze in the mirror and quirked a brow.

  Jaynes reddened, but blustered on. “Your father and Ms. Reedwater will insist upon the match. They’ll chalk up your defection to pre-wedding jitters and will simply reschedule the wedding.”

  A line of displeasure formed between Lou’s brows. Drat. Double drat. Jaynes was right. As soon as her father managed to find her, he’d do exactly as her insightful driver had pointed out. And undoubtedly Lou thought grimly, the second time around he would see to it there was no avenue for escape.

  Which was why she couldn’t be captured just yet, Lou decided, thoughtfully tapping a finger against her chin. She needed time. Time to formulate a plan and prepare an argument for her overbearing, well meaning, if misguided, lovable parent.

  In order to pull this off, she would have to lie low. Obviously, staying with a friend was out of the question. Undoubtedly, he’d check with them first. Her next thought was a hotel, but she quickly nixed that plan as well. Her father was a resourceful man and wouldn’t hesitate to trace her credit cards. Lou made a mental note to stop by an ATM and withdraw a substantial amount of cash to subsidize this escape.

  Okay. She couldn’t go home, she couldn’t go to a friend. Getting cash and checking into a hotel would take care of the immediate problem, but not the long-term one. She needed to get out of town. Her brow furrowed. But where could she possibly— Suddenly a phrase emblazoned on a nearby awning snagged her attention.

  Are you ready for the time of your life?

  Lou read the slogan of Double Dare, Inc., on the awning outside the red brick building, and felt a rush of excitement swirl through her. A bright ray of sun pierced the clouds and bathed the business front, giving the fanciful impression of divine intervention. A wonderful idea came to her, resulting in a small smile. Lou instructed Jaynes to circle the block, then attempted to recall everything she could about the rather unorthodox firm.

  As best she could remember, Double Dare specialized in adventure guides for thrill seekers. In fact, several friends who’d employed the company’s services had also suggested that Lou hire them to plan her honeymoon. Lou hadn’t even considered the idea. In all truth, she’d work up even less enthusiasm for the honeymoon than she had for the wedding. She’d let Chad take care of those arran
gements.

  She felt a little guilty, remembering the man she’d just humiliated before all of Atlanta’s elite. Though he’d never been so crass as to admit it, she didn’t believe Chad had particularly wanted to marry her either. Like herself, he’d just assumed he was obliged to help secure the merger and had gone along with what his high-handed, imperious mother had told him to do. A shudder of dread shook her at the thought of her almost-mother-in-law.

  Coolly beautiful, Edwina Reedwater had a way about her that could make the most courageous person uneasy. Occasionally, Lou had even witnessed a tremor or two in her father’s unshakable fortitude when faced with the intimidating widow.

  Edwina would be furious. With Lou. And out for blood.

  Indecision gnawed at her.

  Jaynes circled the block, once again passing the impressive business front which housed Double Dare, Inc. Impossibly, the shaft of light shining on the building appeared brighter.

  Lou made up her mind.

  “Jaynes, keep circling until I tell you to stop.”

  Suddenly, her father’s loud baritone blared over the radio attached to the dashboard. “Jaynes! Jaynes! Where the hell are you? Is Lou with you? Come in, Jaynes.”

  Horrified, Lou met her driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror. But to her surprise, Jaynes took a deep breath and gave her a reassuring smile. He switched the radio off and Lou smiled gratefully.

  “You’d best hurry, miss,” Jaynes advised.

  Lou nodded and quickly went to work on her dress. She couldn’t very well waltz into Double Dare in her wedding finery, but she didn’t have time to stop and change. Especially not now.

  Lou was thankful for the simple satin sheath she’d chosen for today. Though quite formal, it would suit her purposes with a little altering. Lou scooted forward, reached behind her back and deftly unhooked the chapel-length train, then shoved it aside. Seed pearls ricocheted off the tinted windows and pinged to the floor as she yanked the lacy overlay from the bodice of the dress. Her mood lightened with each tear of the fabric as she enthusiastically attacked another row of pearls. White gloves and thigh-high white stockings joined the growing heap of discards.

  When there was nothing else to rip or tear from the dress, Lou smoothed her fingers over the modified Vera Wang and studied her handiwork. Not bad, she decided, suitably impressed with her impromptu alterations. Alterations which had proven very therapeutic, she thought with a smile. She flipped the visor down and checked her makeup, deemed it acceptable, then attempted to do something with her hair. Lou frowned. The tight blond ringlets were both her crowning glory and her bane of existence.

  And, despite the amount of hairspray the stylist had used, right now it was the latter. Her corkscrew curls stood out every which way, making her resemble a cross between Cruella DeVille and Medusa, she thought disgustedly. She needed a barrette, a headband, something.

  Inspiration struck. Lou rifled through the bridal debris until she found the item she’d been looking for: her veil. Lips pursed, she inspected the fabric, then yanked it free of the headband. When she’d positioned the new accessory on her head, Lou smiled. Perfect.

  “Okay, Jaynes. Take me to Double Dare, Inc.”

  Lou wasn’t so interested in having the time of her life—she was more concerned with saving it.

  ***

  Sam Rawlins looked at the depressing figure displayed in ominous LED green on his desktop calculator, then flipped his pen on the desk. The tiny thump it made was positively pitiful.

  He leaned back in his chair, rubbed the bridge of his nose and exhaled a mighty breath. Hell, at the rate he was going, it would be at least another year before he could get the magazine off the ground.

  Another year of performing stunts, when he’d rather be writing about them.

  Sam muttered a heartfelt, “Aw, hell”—his greatest concession to any setback no matter how bad—then leaned forward and set his mind to today’s task. Though the thought of further delays was bitterly depressing, The Edge would simply have to wait until his possessed the capital for the start-up.

  He reached blindly into his bottom drawer in search of his daily nourishment. Empty cellophane wrappers rattled, heralding a futile search. Annoyed, Sam frowned and pulled the carton from the drawer. Emtpy. It figured. Another “Aw, hell,” emerged from his mouth as he stared at the carton. A blond, blue eyed pixie with rosy lips stared back at him. No more than eight, the bright-eyed child on the box wore an impish grin that always made him smile.

  Hi stomach grumbled and the smile disappeared. “Not even eleven o’clock and it’s already been a double Aw-hell day,” he said to no one in particular, then tossed the box into the trash.

  Outside his office, Sam heard the telltale swoosh of the door closing. “Mona, you’re late,” he called threateningly.

  “Yeah, I know, but I brought a peace offering,” she returned, not the least bit repentant or intimidated. A few second later his punctually-challenged, slower-than-a-sloth secretary shuffled into his office, then hurled a carton of Honey-Lu’s Fudgy –Nutty cakes at him. “It’s Saturday, Sam,” she said in an unhurried drawl, which perfectly matched her equally speedless personality. “Be thankful I’m here.”

  Sam grinned and caught the box in midair.

  Mona rolled her eyes disgustedly, “Geez, you’re easy. I had to sleep with my last boss to get a grin like that. Gimme a minute, “she added, “and I’ll get your coffee. Make that five minutes. No ten.”

  Having grown accustomed to Mona’s slightly warped brand of humor, Sam ignored her comments. “What have we got this morning?” he called to her retreating figure.

  “Nothing,” Mona’s disembodied voice returned. “So why am I here?”

  “Mona,” Sam warned, his usual response to these verbal skirmishes. He heard her put-upon sigh and smiled.

  “Simon and I are both on schedule,” his secretary informed him finally. “Brent had a setback yesterday due to inclement weather, but plans to complete his expedition this afternoon.”

  Sam nodded, simultaneously digesting the information and the food. Good. Now if there weren’t any major setbacks—there are always a few minor ones, no matter how many precautions were taken—then this week would go off without a hitch.

  As for himself, he didn’t have an adventure planned until the middle of next week. Ordinarily, he didn’t have a lengthy break between stunts, but the leaky roof on his mother’s house simply couldn’t wait any longer. He grimaced. Another spring shower and her foyer would resemble an ornamental pond.

  Mona returned, the promised coffee in hand. “There’s a limo out front. You didn’t have an appointment scheduled. Are you expecting someone?”

  Sam shook his head and chewed thoughtfully as Mona left to investigate. A limo. That sounded promising, he thought, so long as it wasn’t a woman. Sam had nothing against the fairer sex, per se. However, despite their best intentions, they usually balked at some point, which often meant he lost half his profit.

  Furthermore, most of the socialites who had the money to afford the agency’s services seemed to think that his guides came as part of the deal. Sam employed men who kept themselves in excellent shape, not just to look good, but because physical fitness was imperative in this line of work.

  As a result, to avoid lawsuits and other unpleasantness, Sam strictly prohibited any sort of romantic involvement between his guides and clients. He didn’t advertise much, but counted mostly on referrals. Hell, one broken-hearted debutante with a rich daddy could ruin him professionally as well as financially. He refused to allow the risk—he couldn’t afford it.

  Sam was brushing the cake crumbs off his desk when Mona returned. “So, who’s here?”

  “One Louisa Honeycutt.”

  Damn. A woman. “Honeycutt,” Sam murmured thoughtfully. Why did that name ring a bell? Before he could ponder it any further, Mona announced his impromptu appointment—without asking him, of course—and ushered the woman into his office.

  She
didn’t fit the picture in his mind of a female client who’d arrived in a chauffeur-driven limo. He’d seen them before. The face and shape changed, but the uniform and posture rarely did. Sleek, polished, Donna Karan suit, Ferragamo pumps, an expensive sort of glow.

  But this woman was different.

  Clouds of curly, honey-colored hair framed a heart-shaped face that was virtually devoid of makeup and too charmingly cute to be called beautiful. She had big, baby blue eyes, glinting with intelligence and something delightfully mischievous, and long, gold-tipped lashes. A spattering of tawny freckles dusted her nose, and a little dimple winked beside her rosy lips. He’d seen that face before…but where?

  She reddened under his stare and cleared her throat. “Good morning, Mr. Rawlins. I appreciate your seeing me on such short notice.” Her gaze slid to his desk and a hint of a smile tease her lightly glossed lips. “I hope I didn’t interrupt your breakfast.”

  The sound of her voice snapped Sam to attention. “No, no. Not at all.” Feeling foolish, he summoned a smile and extended his hand. Hers was soft and so small that he gentled his grasp to keep from hurting her.

  Feel uncharacteristically disconcerted, Sam willed himself to focus on business. He cleared his throat. “Ms. Honeycutt, have a seat.”

  “Call me Lou, please,” she replied.

  Per his invitation, she perched on the edge of the chair. At that point, Sam noticed her dress. And what healthy male—hell, living male—wouldn’t notice that dress?

  Made of white satin, it was a long, scoop-necked, body-hugging confection that left little doubt as to the slender, yet curvy form beneath. The dress was so tight Sam was inclined to believe it’ been shrink-wrapped on. He could see the outline of her ribs. Her hips. Teeth clenched, he sucked in a slow breath. If she were wearing underwear—and that was a big if—t’d have to be white silk and he’d bet his next mortgage payment it was a thong.

  Sam shifted in his seat and took a sip of coffee to wet his suddenly parched mouth. Aw, hell he thought again. She was a potential client. Placing mental wagers on the choice of her undergarments was hardly professional. Still, the idea made him think of other unmentionables; and, before he could stop himself, Sam’s wayward gaze had moved to her breasts. He swallowed tightly. Just as he suspected—no bra either.