Twice Kissed - Lisa Jackson [94]
“I’m not Marquise.”
“No?” The reporter smiled and winked. “Are you going by Mary Theresa again? Look, everyone at the station has been worried sick—”
“You don’t understand,” Maggie cut in. “I’m not Mary Theresa.” She felt Thane’s fingers on her elbow.
“Let’s get out of here,” he growled into her ear.
But Maggie stopped short and sensed the other reporters approach her. “I’m Mary Theresa Gillette’s sister. I came to Denver to help locate her.”
“You mean Marquise. You’re her sister?” The woman paused, then as if remembering something, “You’re not from around here.” She glanced at a cameraman. “Tess said something about a twin sister, but no one had tracked her down. You lived in California but moved north—Montana or…Idaho.”
Maggie was stunned. It had been only a few days, but the resources of the press were incredible. So they should be used to find her sister.
“Do you have any idea where she might be?” the Asian woman asked.
“No.”
“She’s disappeared before, hasn’t she?” This from a tall, thin man wearing a ski parka. Another microphone was shoved under Maggie’s nose. “Do you think foul play was involved?” he asked, eager eyes searching for a story. “Could she have been kidnapped?”
“No comment,” Thane insisted loudly, then said into Maggie’s ear, “Let’s not get into this now.”
“Who’re you? The bodyguard?” one reporter demanded as Thane tugged on Maggie’s elbow and passersby on the street slowed or craned their necks at the commotion.
“The ex-husband,” another reporter clarified.
“Is she a dead ringer for her sister or what?” Ski Parka asked.
“Please, I’d like to set up an interview with you,” the first woman said. She shoved a business card in Maggie’s gloved hand. “I’m Jasmine Bell. I work at KRKY with Marquise.”
“Later,” Thane said.
The woman leveled Thane with a cool I’m-used-to-men-trying-to-push-me-around gaze. “I was talking to…what’s your name?”
“Maggie McCrae.”
“I was talking to Ms. McCrae.” Her dark eyes found Maggie’s while the other reporters inched closer. “Give me a call.”
“If you’ll help me find Mary Theresa.”
“I’d love to. Everyone at KRKY is concerned for your sister’s well-being. I’m sure Ron Bishop, the station manager, would be more than willing to get our people and resources more involved.”
“Hey, wait a minute—” the tall reporter was trying to wedge himself between the two women.
“That’s it,” Thane said, his expression unforgiving as he shepherded Maggie toward the truck. “We’re out of here.”
She pulled her arm out of his grip but managed to keep up with him. His stride was longer, but her boots pounded the sidewalk in quick time. Anger coursed through her veins. Damn it, she was sick and tired of his high-handed tactics, as if he knew what was best for her.
Fortunately, the reporters didn’t follow, and Maggie did a slow, steady burn. By the time they reached his truck, she was ready to explode. “You and I better get something straight, Walker.” She jabbed a gloved finger at his nose. “Just because we’re both trying to find out what happened to Mary Theresa doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do, or manhandle me, or embarrass me. Got it?”
His eyes narrowed, and for a second, as he stared down at her, she didn’t know if he intended to shake some sense into her or kiss her. For a heartbeat the city seemed to melt away. He reached forward. Her breath caught. She swallowed hard but focused on the thin line of his mouth. His arm grazed her shoulder as he forced a key into the lock and opened the pickup’s door.
In a second, the magic moment evaporated.
“Don’t hold your breath if you’re expecting me to say, ‘yes, princess.’ The way I see it we’re in this together. Equally. I’m not about to take any orders, got that?”
“Equally?” she repeated, flabbergasted. “You think