Eye of the Beholder
“What do you mean?”
“Even though Bell probably doesn’t want to do anything more than scare you into staying out of the picture, I think we should take precautions.”
“Trask, try to bear in mind that we don’t know that Webster Bell is behind any of this.”
“That’s beside the point. We’re discussing precautions, remember?”
She sighed. “Okay, okay. What precautions do you suggest?”
He thought about it. “As far as the days go, a few prudent steps should be sufficient.”
“What steps?”
“We’ll make sure you’re not alone or isolated for any extended period of time, the way you were yesterday. He’s not likely to try anything chancy in broad daylight if there are witnesses.”
Alexa considered that. “A comforting thought, I suppose. But, for the record, I think you’re overlooking a really large issue here.”
“Which is?”
“If you’re right about any of this, you’re the one who’s in danger, not me.”
His spirits lifted. “Worried about me?”
“Well, yes, now that you mention it, I am.”
“Thanks. I’m touched. Now then, as far as the nights go—”
She gave him a sharp look. “What about the nights?”
“There are a couple of ways we could go about this.” He kept his voice calm and deliberate. He wanted to make himself sound rational, logical, and reasonable. He did not want her thinking that he’d gone over the edge with his paranoia. “You could stay with me at the hotel.”
“Move into your hotel?” She stared at him. “Are you crazy?”
“Alexa, be reasonable. Avalon Resorts provides round-the-clock security for all guests. It’s discreet but professional. You won’t even be aware of it.”
“Forget it.” Her chair scraped as she shoved herself back from the table. “I have absolutely no intention of moving into the Avalon Resort & Spa. I want to stay right here in my own home, thank you very much.”
“All right, plan B is to send a member of the Avalon security staff over here in the evenings to keep an eye on things.”
“Now you’re talking about providing me with a bodyguard.” She folded her arms beneath her breasts. Her shoulders made a stiff, angular line. “I don’t like the sound of that either.”
“There is a third alternative,” he said as casually as possible.
She gave him a suspicious look. “If you’re about to suggest that I leave town for a while, you can save your breath. I’ve got a business to run. Besides, I’m not about to walk away from this thing.”
“I know you won’t leave town. I’m not even sure that would be a good idea.” He made himself sound patient. “What I was about to suggest is that I stay here at night with you.”
She said nothing, just looked at him as if he had suddenly begun to speak in an incomprehensible foreign language.
“I would, of course, sleep on the couch,” he added politely.
“The couch?”
“I realize that your neighbors won’t understand the situation. Conclusions might be drawn.”
“The neighbors? I don’t give a damn about the neighbors. Everyone in town has already concluded that we’re involved in a torrid affair.” Her jaw tensed. “Even though it was only a one-night stand.”
He looked at her. “I don’t know how it was for you, but for me it was definitely a very torrid one-night stand.”
She gaped, clearly bereft of words.
“Alexa, be reasonable. Given the Dimensions connection and the fact that Guthrie may have been killed because of it, we have to take your experience today very seriously. If I’m not with you at night, I’m going to lie awake sweating.”
“Why?”
“I won’t be able to sleep because I’ll be worrying about your safety.”
“Oh.”
“I need my rest.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s settled, then,” he said. “I’ll spend the night here. On the couch.”
“That won’t be very convenient for you, will it? All your things are back at the hotel.”
He thought of the small, plastic Avalon Resorts amenities kit he’d stashed in the Jeep’s glove compartment before coming here tonight. It included a razor and a condom. Who said he couldn’t think positive?
“I’ll get by,” he said.
24
The ringing of the phone brought Alexa out of the first decent night’s sleep she’d had in days. She came awake thinking that her alarm had gone off early.
The phone rang again, shrill and menacing. She glanced at the window and realized it was still dark outside. The numbers on the clock glowed green in the shadows. Two-fifteen A.M.
“Oh, damn.”
She sat up in bed and stared at the phone as if it were a cobra.
A shifting of the shadows in the doorway broke the spell. Trask. She was suddenly very glad that she had allowed him to sleep on her couch. The sight of him reassured her in ways she did not want to examine too closely.
He had taken the time to put on his chinos, but he had not yet zipped them. She glimpsed a wedge of white.
Another ring sounded. Pull yourself together, Alexa. And for heaven’s sake stop staring at the man’s briefs.
“Answer it.” Trask came toward her through the shadows. Moonlight glinted on the fierce planes of his face. “Make sure he knows you’re not alone.”
She reached out and picked up the phone.
“Who is this?” she demanded.
“Think he’ll still want to go to bed with you after he finds out about the McClelland Gallery forgeries?”
Alexa froze. “What do you know about McClelland?”
“Enough.” The voice was muffled and distorted again. “This will be your last warning. Stay away from Trask or he will be told everything.”
“He’s right here. Why don’t you tell him everything right now and save yourself the time and—”
Alexa broke off, wincing when the caller slammed the receiver down in her ear.
“Let me have that.” Trask took the phone from her hand and quickly punched in the code to activate last call return.
Alexa held the sheet to her throat and waited tensely. Eventually someone picked up the phone on the other end.
“I know this is a pay phone,” Trask said roughly. “Did you see whoever it was who just used it?” There was a pause. “Kids? Are you sure there aren’t any adults around? Did anyone just drive off?”
Alexa listened as he went through the same litany of questions she had asked the night she had tried to trace the call. She was not surprised when he got nowhere. Eventually he hung up the phone and turned to look at her.
“Another all-night convenience store,” he said. “No one saw whoever used the pay phone last.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Alexa muttered. “Who would notice anyone using a pay phone at a convenience store unless he tied up the line for a long time?”
“What did he say this time?”
“The caller? He was a little more direct and to the point than usual.” She tightened her grip on the sheet. “He didn’t mention dark vortices and approaching storms. He tried blackmail instead.”
“The McClelland scandal?”
“Uh-huh.” She watched him out of the corner of her eye.
“Interesting that Bell knows about that.” Trask sounded thoughtful.
“As I keep reminding you, we don’t know for sure that Webster Bell is the one making those calls. Besides, everyone in Avalon recognizes him on sight. I don’t see how he could skulk around twenty-four-hour convenience stores late at night without being noticed.”
Trask eyed the phone. “He could be using someone else to do the dirty work.”
“In any event, the McClelland scandal isn’t exactly a state secret. At least not in the art world.”
“But someone outside that world would have to do a little digging to find it, right?”
&n
bsp; “I should think so, given that the story is over a year old now. There hasn’t been an article in the trade press on the McClelland forgeries in months.” She shuddered. “Believe me, I’d know.”
“Yeah, you probably would.”
“You’re a good example.” Her brows rose. “You didn’t even find out about the McClelland scandal until after you bought a fortune in early-twentieth-century art and antiques. And you’re what most people would call pretty sharp about not getting conned.”
“I don’t claim to be sharper than the average guy when it comes to avoiding a con, but I’m probably a lot meaner than some folks if I find out I’ve been had.”
She was dismayed to realize that his not-so-casual warning had the power to hurt her. What had she been thinking? That their adventures together during the past few days had formed a deep and lasting bond? Sheer fantasy, as Trask would be the first one to tell her.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she whispered.
He did not move. He just continued to watch her from the shadows near the bed. But there was a disturbing stillness in him now that had not been there a moment ago.
“For the record,” he said quietly, “I don’t give a damn if it turns out that I’m the new owner of the best collection of fake Art Deco in the known universe.”
For an instant, she felt nothing at all. And then fierce rage flowed into all the empty places inside her.
“Just what the hell do you mean by that?” she demanded.
“You heard me.” He took a step closer to the bed. “I’m trying to tell you that what’s going on between us isn’t connected to that damn art collection.”
“What is this? Am I supposed to be grateful?”
He stopped at the edge of the bed. “I’m trying to explain something here.”
“I know that.” She scrambled to her knees and gathered the sheet around her as if it were a chain-mail cloak that could protect her from his words. “And I know where you think you’re going with your stupid explanations, but it won’t work.”
“Where did I think I was going?”
“To bed. With me. For another one-night stand.” She felt the heat rise in her face, but it did not slow her down. Her anger was stronger than her embarrassment. “Forget it.”
“Alexa—”
“Talk about lousy seduction lines. Did you really believe an insulting remark like that would persuade me to hop back into bed for a little convenient sex?”
His eyes glittered in the shadows. “How did I insult you? I was trying to tell you that I don’t give a damn about the art collection.”
“That’s supposed to make me feel all warm and fuzzy?” Her voice rose. “Telling me that you still think there’s a good possibility that I defrauded you, but that you’re willing to overlook it because you’ve got a hard-on is your idea of irresistible sweet talk?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“That’s sure what it sounded like.”
“It came out all wrong.” He took one more step and stopped at the edge of the bed. His hands closed around her shoulders. “I meant that I didn’t care about that art collection.”
“You don’t care about it tonight, but how will you feel tomorrow when you’re no longer trying to get laid?”
His hands tightened around her shoulders. “I’m going to feel just fine tomorrow because I know you didn’t cheat me.”
“Oh, yeah? How can you be sure of that?”
“Because I trust you,” he roared.
“What makes you think you can trust me? Nothing’s changed in this equation. I’m still the same woman I was when you first met me. I’m still the art consultant with the shady past. You haven’t yet got any confirmation that the art and antiques in your new hotel aren’t fakes, frauds, and forgeries.”
“You’re wrong. Things have changed. You and I are in this together.”
“What does that change?”
“Everything.” His voice softened. “Hell, I wouldn’t be here tonight if I didn’t trust you.”
“And just when did you come to the conclusion that you could trust me?”
To her astonishment, he fell silent for a few seconds. She sensed his anger transmuting into something that was probably infinitely more dangerous.
“I don’t know,” he said simply. “I’ve probably known it for twelve years.”
“What are you talking about?” She stared at him in disbelief. “Twelve years ago you only saw me for a few minutes. You were in a rage at the time. I’m surprised you even remembered me.”
“I remembered you the instant I saw you again.” He searched her face. “In fact, I never really forgot you or the way you looked that night when you told me to get out of the house. You were so thin. Nothing but skin and bone and big, haunted eyes. You were scared to death of me, weren’t you?”
“I was scared of a lot of things in those days.”
“But you didn’t run and hide. You came down those stairs, grabbed the phone, ordered me out of the house, and threatened to call the cops.”
“And you left.”
“Of course I left.” His mouth curved wryly. “I knew you’d do just what you said you’d do. I knew you’d call the cops. I could see it in your eyes.”
“And I knew that you’d do just what you said you would do, too,” she whispered. “I knew that someday you would come back.”
“When you looked me in the eye and told me that I was going to discover that Avalon Resorts, Inc., was the proud owner of the best collection of Art Deco on the West Coast, I believed you, too,” he said. “But I didn’t admit it because I was pissed at the time.”
“Where you angry because Edward had asked me to consult for him without telling you about my past?”
“No.” He raised his hands from her shoulders and sank his fingers into her hair. “I was mad because the minute I saw you, I knew that you would be standing between me and Lloyd Kenyon again. And I didn’t want you involved.”
She let the sheet fall from her fingers and reached up to clasp his wrists. “Why not?”
His hands sank deeper into her hair. “Because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to get at Kenyon if it meant hurting you.”
“Oh, Trask.” She smiled tremulously. “I didn’t understand any of that when you said you didn’t care about your art collection.”
“Not your fault. I didn’t do a great job of explaining myself. That kind of thing tends to happen to me when I get into—” He broke off. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. Everything’s okay now.”
She searched his face. “Is it?”
“Isn’t it?”
She turned the possibilities over in her mind. “There’s an ancient bit of metaphysical philosophy that probably applies to this situation.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. What is it?”
“Life is short. Eat dessert first.”
His smile was slow and deliberate. “That kind of metaphysics I can grasp.”
He bent his head and brushed his mouth lightly across hers. Alexa held her breath, but she did not resist. She was conscious of the heat in him. She could feel the pulse of her own desire.
He put one knee on the bed. “You were right when you said my seduction line was lousy tonight. You were also right about something else.”
“What’s that?”
“I do have a serious hard-on. How did you know? Was I that obvious?”
“Uh-huh.” She settled her hands on his waist. “You forgot to zip your pants.”
He glanced down, groaned, and rested his forehead on hers. “Just call me Mr. Cool.”
She moved her fingertips lower, until she touched the heavy, rigid length of him. “I think hot would be a more accurate description.”
“You can say that again.” He eased her onto her back and sprawled heavily on top of her. “Does this mean that you’re willing to overlook my crummy line about the art collection?”
“It’s the thought that counts.”
He kissed her, long
and deep. A light, delicate shiver passed through her. A curious euphoria bubbled up inside.
“My thoughts were pure,” he said against her throat.
“Were they?”
“Sort of.”
She kissed his bare shoulder, and then she moved her lips through the crisp hair on his chest.
She made the kisses last. She experimented with making them wet. And then she used her teeth, very lightly. A shudder went through him. She felt the sleek muscles of his back flex and grow taut.
She savored the knowledge that she could have such an unmistakable effect on him.
Wild woman lives.
He slid one hand up along her leg to the inside of her thigh. She felt open and vulnerable. Probably because she was open and vulnerable, she thought. But it was okay. For now. Wild woman could handle it.
He sank two fingers into her.
Her whole body convulsed.
“On the other hand,” she got out in a thick whisper, “my thoughts aren’t pure at all.”
“I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear that.”
He rolled onto his back and took her with him. A glorious excitement spiraled through her. She flattened her hands on his chest, rejoicing in the heat and strength in him.
After a while she kissed a path down his body, all the way to his sleek belly and beyond. He groaned and sucked in air.
He caught her up and pulled her down so that she sat astride him.
He eased himself into her, filling her and stretching her until the sensation became unbearable, until something inside her exploded in a shower of brilliant sparks.
The part of her that had felt open and vulnerable earlier, reveled in the sense of feminine power that swept through her now.
“You were wrong about one thing,” he whispered. “I’m definitely going to be thinking about getting laid again tomorrow.”
Trask stirred a long time later. He opened one eye and saw that it was still dark outside. He closed the eye and gently shifted the weight of Alexa’s soft, warm body until she nestled more snugly against him. He could get addicted to the scent of her, he decided. Maybe he was already hooked.
“Alexa?”
“Hmmm?”
“Are you awake?”
“No.”
“I just wanted to make a point.”