Home > Married by Midnight (The Bad Boy Billionaires #12)(43)

Married by Midnight (The Bad Boy Billionaires #12)(43)
Author: Judy Angelo

“Yes,” she yelled, laughing out loud.  “Dunstan Manchester, you lose.”

Kicking off her heels, she grabbed a smaller box and pushed it close enough so she could jump on and then climb onto the tall pile.  It was hard, being in a dress and not her usual slacks, but she hiked up her skirt and climbed on.  At that height she was perfectly positioned to see the source of light.

Her heart slipped from on top of the boxes where she crouched and slid down to the floor. What she’d thought was a window was a square of thick, solid blocks of glass. They almost looked like bricks.  There was definitely no hope here.  Her face sagging in defeat, she slid down to join her heart on the floor.

Dunstan Manchester had won.  There was no hope for her now.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Where the hell was she?

Reed glanced at his watch again.  Three forty-three, only seventeen minutes before their scheduled appointment with the judge and Golden was nowhere to be seen.  He’d been calling her since three, the time they’d agreed to meet at a nearby coffee shop but six calls later she still hadn’t answered her cell phone.  He’d even called her home number.  Same thing.  No answer.  As a last resort he’d called to find out if she’d arrived early for the appointment.  The answer was negative.

The worry worming its way into his mind, Reed pushed his coffee aside and got up.  There was nothing to do now but head to the judge’s office and hope Golden would come rushing in, telling him she’d had a flat tire, her phone battery had died, anything that would clear up this inexplicable silence.

It wasn’t until he was walking out of Aroma Café that he realized that the weather had taken a turn for the worse.  He was shocked to see the sky now covered in ominous black clouds.  Had he been inside that long?  And how could he not have noticed the clouds rolling in?  He’d definitely been out of it.

What if this was the reason for Golden’s delay?  She might have been caught in a thunderstorm on the way here.  Rainy weather always wreaked havoc on traffic flow.  He just wished he knew what was going on.

“Right on time.”  The receptionist greeted him with a smile as he walked in the door.  “Judge Sandowski wants to get started on the dot of four.  He’s attending a function this evening.  You’re his last appointment.”  Then she frowned, apparently just noticing that he was alone.  “Where’s your wife-to-be?”

Reed’s heart was beating a weird rhythm in his chest, a beat that was growing more frantic by the minute.  “I don’t know,” he finally managed.  “I was hoping she would have been here waiting for me.”  Then he decided to check again.  “Did she call?  Golden Browne is her name.”

The woman shook her head.  “No.  Sorry.”  Then she frowned.  “Did you call her cell phone?  Her office, maybe?”

“I can’t reach her on any of her numbers.”  He grimaced.  “I just can’t figure out what’s wrong.”

The receptionist gave him a sympathetic look.  “Maybe she got cold feet?  It’s happened before.”

“No, that’s not it.”  His voice adamant, he glared at her.  “Golden wants this as much as I do.”  Then he looked away, his thoughts racing.  “Something’s happened.  I can feel it. I just pray to God she’s okay.”

“I’m sorry.  Do you want me to postpone the appointment?  I can reschedule you for next week.”

“No.  Don’t do anything yet.”  He glanced back at her.  “It’s still five minutes before the hour.  Maybe I’m overreacting.  She’ll probably come in through that door any minute.”

Reed sat there in the reception lounge thirty more nail-biting minutes.  Golden did not show.  He was getting to his feet when the judge himself came out of his inner office.

The heavy-set man walked over and held out his hand.  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Davidoff,” he said and pumped his hand vigorously.  “Millie has informed me about the situation.”  Then he gave Reed an apologetic look.  “I’m afraid I can’t wait longer, though.  I have an engagement this evening.”

“I understand.”  Reed nodded then shoved his hands inside his pockets.  “I’m leaving now, anyway.  I have to find Golden.”

“You do what you have to do.”  Judge Sandowski put a big hand on Reed’s shoulder.  “Good luck.”  Then he went back to his office, shaking his head as he went.

Reed looked across at the receptionist.

She shrugged.  “Like I said, this wouldn’t be the first time this has happened.”

When Reed left the office and went back to his parked car his heart was racing but it wasn’t out of fear that Golden had decided to back out of the marriage. It was the fear that Golden was in trouble that had his heart racing.  He had to find her. The first place to check was her home.

Reed tore out of the covered parking lot into a blinding sheet of rain.  Not what he needed right now, not when he was consumed with the thought that Golden might be lying somewhere, hurt.  He wanted to fly to her but how could he, with this sudden deluge that brought London traffic to a grinding halt?

Get a move on, godammit.  Reed slammed his hands on the steering wheel, feeling like he would punch his fist through the windshield.  He’d been sitting in a knot of cars for the past fifteen minutes and they hadn’t moved ten yards.  It was like a friggin’ parking lot.

He pulled out his BlackBerry and dialed Golden’s cell phone number again.  Nothing.

With a growl Reed threw the phone onto the passenger’s seat and flipped the radio on.  There had to be something else going on with this traffic.  The weather alone couldn’t have brought movement to a standstill.

It took another three minutes of flipping channels before a news report enlightened him on what was happening.  There’d been a major accident up ahead and the police had blocked off the street and were diverting traffic away from the scene.  And he was caught smack in the middle of it.  Damn!

According to the GPS there was a minor road that could take him out of this mess but it was almost another mile up ahead.  How long would it take him to go that far?  At the rate this traffic was moving – or more accurately, not moving – it would be a good hour before he got there.  Christ.

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