Eye of the Beholder (15 page)

“Yes.”

“He was a man of vision, but he was not very good when it came to the bottom line. The Avalon Mansion project was a disaster waiting to happen. It was undercapitalized and poorly managed from the start. But Dad wouldn't listen to—”

He broke off abruptly. The fingers of his left hand flexed once.

Comprehension crashed through Alexa. “Your father would not listen to you? Is that what you were about to say?”

“He was obsessed with the Avalon project. He had a vision of what it could be.” Trask's mouth was a grim line. “When Dad was riding the wings of a fantasy, he couldn't see the reality of a stone wall looming in front of him.”

Alexa drew a deep breath. “You tried to tell him, didn't you?”

“I argued with him until I was hoarse. He said I was only twenty-three. What the hell did I know?”

“But you knew, didn't you?”

Trask turned his head slowly. His eyes were pitiless. “It was the worst of all our head-on clashes.
Much worse than the one we had when I told him I didn't want to play college ball, let alone try for the pros. Worse than the battle we fought when he used the money my mother had left for Nathan's college education to finance his doomed private ferry scheme.”

Alexa realized that the chilling blame in Trask's gaze was not directed at the memory of his father. It was aimed at himself.

“I used up all of my logic and reason that night, and then I lost my temper,” Trask continued softly. “I told him that he was going to bankrupt us again. I pleaded with him to ditch the Avalon project. I told him to think about Nathan's future. Dad was furious. He said I had no vision. He slammed down the phone and so did I.”

“That night?” A terrible sympathy flashed through Alexa. “You quarreled
that night,
didn't you? The night your father was killed in the accident.”

Trask's eyes were hooded now. She knew that he had said far more than he had intended.

“Three hours after I put down the phone I got the call from the Avalon cops telling me my father had driven his car off Avalon Point.”

“Oh, Trask.” Not knowing what else to do, she reached out to touch his shoulder. “No wonder you've been obsessed with finding answers. Deep down you're afraid that you might have been the one who was responsible for your father's death, aren't you?”

His eyes gleamed with sudden fury. “What the hell are you talking about? I told you, Dad was murdered, and I'm going to prove it.”

“You're afraid that what really happened after
that last quarrel was that he got into his car and drove off without being in full control of himself. You think you were a contributing factor in his death, don't you?”

“That is pure, undiluted bullshit.”

“Yes, it is,” Alexa said. “But deep down inside, you're worried that it's the truth. You've come back to Avalon because you have to know if you've been right to blame yourself all these years for what happened that night.”

He said nothing.

Alexa gripped his shoulder. “Listen to me, you were not responsible for your father's death. But that does not automatically imply that someone else is.”

“I'm going to find out what happened that night,” he said very steadily.

“Trask, listen to me. I know what it's like to get that kind of call in the middle of the night. I know what it's like not to have had a chance to say goodbye.”

“Alexa—”

She tightened her hand. “I know how it feels to wonder if, just maybe, I'd been prettier or more clever, or, better yet, if I'd been a son, if maybe my father would have spent more time at home. Maybe he wouldn't have gotten bored and traveled halfway around the world to risk his neck taking pictures of other people's wars. Maybe he wouldn't have gotten himself shot by some anonymous sniper who probably never even knew his name—”

She broke off abruptly, shocked by the rush of words.
She had never said those things aloud, not even to Dr. Ormiston.

Trask watched her with an unblinking gaze. “I'm sorry.”

Alexa fought a short, ferocious battle to pull herself together.

“Sometimes there are no answers,” she said.

“Sometimes there are answers. I'm going to get them.”

“I never thought I'd say this,” she whispered. “But I wish you luck. I think you're going to need it.”

On impulse she stood on tiptoe and brushed her mouth lightly across his. He did not respond.

She took her hand off his shoulder and turned away toward the exit.

“Alexa.”

She paused and looked back. “What is it?”

“I don't want or need your sympathy. Do you understand?”

She could feel the tension in him, a live wire dancing with dangerous electricity. “Got it. No sympathy.”

“And the next time you kiss me, by God, make sure it's for real. I don't need little butterfly pecks to make me feel better. I'm not some kid with a skinned knee.”

She braced herself. “What do you need, Trask?”

Without warning, he took two steps toward her and pulled her into his arms. “This is what I need.”

His mouth came down on hers, fierce, hot, demanding. The kiss exploded through her senses, pulling her deep into the vortex of sensation that had opened at her feet.

She discovered in a sudden rush of heat and lightning that she did not want to give him another little butterfly caress. She did not want to brush her mouth across his in a misguided attempt to communicate her understanding of what he had gone through all those years ago.

She wanted to crush herself against him so that she could feel the kiss all the way to her bones.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and sank deeper into the whirlpool of sensual energy.

14
 

Her response swept away everything else that should have mattered to him tonight, everything that should have commanded his full attention at that moment. Everything that he had been thinking just a few seconds earlier.

It was not that he forgot about Guthrie and Kenyon or what had happened twelve years ago. It was just that, right now, while he was holding Alexa in his arms, those things could be put aside for a while.

The past could wait until tomorrow.

He tightened his hold on Alexa. She was soft and vibrant. Her scent captivated him on an elemental level. He'd known women who smelled good, but none of them had smelled
this
good.

The contours of her body were exquisitely satisfying. They seemed to fit him perfectly. It was as though she had been made just for him. When she sighed and opened her mouth he wanted to go out and conquer a large chunk of the civilized world and maybe finish exploring the Amazon.

But first he wanted to make love to her. He had to make love to her. And he had to do it now, tonight.

He eased her closer. Her thigh brushed against the inside of the leg he had braced on the fountain rim.

There is nothing so seductive as water in the desert.

Without breaking the kiss, he closed his hands around Alexa's waist, scooped her up, and stepped into the low fountain pool with her in his arms. The soft, warm rain cascaded over them.

Alexa gasped and pulled back a little, but her hands still clung firmly around his shoulders. She stared at him through the gentle mist. Her eyes gleamed with astonished wonder as the water plastered her hair to her elegantly shaped head.

He could not tell her that he was even more amazed than she was by his exuberant passion. For some reason it felt perfectly natural to make love to this woman in a fountain tonight.

“Trask.”
She caught his face between her palms, closed her eyes, and nibbled hungrily along the line of his jaw until her teeth closed around his earlobe.

He slid his hands down the length of her body, savoring the feel of her. The water had turned the tissue-thin dress into a second skin. He was aware of every inch of her through the wet fabric. When he curved his fingers around her breasts he discovered that her nipples were tight and full beneath a near-transparent bra.

The vapors that filled the spa chamber created a dream world, a place where reality could be checked at the door. For the first time in his life, he
did the unthinkable. He knowingly allowed himself to enter the fantasy.

He could always step back out of it when this was finished, he thought. He could deal with the facts. He always understood the bottom line in any given situation. But just for tonight he would revel in the fantasy. He needed it.

Just for tonight.

Alexa made no protest when he eased the zipper of her dress down to the small of her back. He peeled the wet silk away from her body and let it sink into the churning pool. Then he unfastened her bra. It, too, fell into the water and floated away.

He shuddered when he felt her hands on his bare chest. He realized with a shock of excitement that she had unbuttoned his shirt.

“You feel so good,” she whispered against his shoulder.

He heard the unveiled appreciation in her voice. The knowledge that she wanted him was the ultimate aphrodisiac.

As if he needed any other drug tonight.

He went down on one knee, hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her pantyhose, and stripped them down to her ankles.

Slowly he drew his palms upward from ankle to thigh. He urged her legs apart and slid his finger into her. She gave a choked moan and clutched at his shoulders to steady herself. He felt her nails sink into his skin.

He wrapped his hands around her buttocks and found her clitoris with his tongue. The taste of her was utterly unique in all the universe. It made him ravenous, insatiable.

She trembled violently.

He could feel himself, hard and full, inside his trousers.

He rose in the sparkling water until he was once more standing in front of her. He looked into her eyes and saw the sultry yearning there.

He reached down and unbuckled his belt.

It took him only a moment to get out of his trousers and retrieve the foil packet from his wallet.

When he lifted Alexa high into his arms and carried her to the nearest lounger, she whispered his name. He considered it a near-miracle that he did not climax then and there.

He put her down on the cushions and lowered himself on top of her. She folded one leg around his thigh. He discovered that she was damp and slick all over.

And hot. So very, very hot.

With a groan, he thrust deep into her snug body. She lifted herself, straining against him. He found the swollen nub between her legs again, this time with his thumb.

The waters of the spa bubbled, lapped, and surged around them.

He sank deeper into Alexa.

She cried out, shivered, and climaxed beneath him. He tried to hold himself back long enough to savor her response, but the delicious demands of her body proved irresistible.

Somewhere in the shimmering void a bell rang, warning him about the risk of getting caught up in the fantasy.

He ignored it. He would worry later about climbing back out of the illusion.

* * *

Alexa sat up on the edge of the lounger and pulled the oversized bath sheet more closely around her breasts. She glanced around surreptitiously, part of her still half-convinced that she might have hallucinated the entire experience. But the steamy atmosphere, the frothy fountains, and the gleaming tiles were definitely real.

This wasn't her. It couldn't be her. She didn't do things like this.

Wild woman had struck, big time. But now the real Alexa had to deal with the aftermath.

She watched Trask walk back toward her through the mist. He wore a toweling robe that he had found in one of the changing rooms. He carried a second robe in his hand.

She studied the veiled expression in his eyes as he drew closer. Had he planned to seduce her tonight? Or had he been as caught up in the heat of the moment as herself? Was he already regretting the interlude? Or did he think he could control her with passion?

Dr. Ormiston, if you could only see me now. Risk city.

Trask halted near the fountain to scoop up their sodden clothing and her small evening bag. Then he walked over to the lounger and handed her the extra robe.

“You can wear this home,” he said.

She got to her feet, still clutching the bath sheet around herself with one hand. She took the robe from him.

“Okay.” She wondered why she suddenly felt uncomfortably warm. To her chagrin, she realized that she was blushing.

This was ridiculous. She had to pull herself together or she would collapse from humiliation.

She gave him what she hoped was a bright, sophisticated sort of smile.
Be cool, Alexa. Risk-takers are nothing if not really, really cool.

“It's going to be a little awkward explaining to your staff why we're not wearing the clothes we had on earlier, isn't it?” she said.

“No big deal. We'll say we took an unanticipated swim in one of the spa pools. Don't worry, a good hotel staff knows better than to ask questions.” His mouth curved at one corner. “Especially of the boss.”