Eye of the Beholder (27 page)

“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.”

“Keep it short.”

“I will.” He fell silent.

“So?” She stretched out one leg and wriggled her toes against his calf. “What's your point?”

“You can't call it a torrid one-night stand anymore.”

It was her turn to go quiet for a while.

“You're right,” she said eventually. “Is there a term for a torrid two-night stand?”

“Yeah.” He leaned over her and kissed her until he knew that he had her full attention. “It's called a relationship.”

25
 

Alexa felt Trask leave the bed shortly before dawn. She opened her eyes. He was headed toward her bathroom.

“Trask?”

He paused in the doorway. “Go back to sleep.”

She saw that he had his pants in his hands. “Where are you going?”

“I have to take care of some business.” He continued on into the shower.

“Business? At this hour? What are you talking about?” She tossed aside the covers and bounded out of bed. “Hold it right there, that's my bathroom. You're not going in there until you tell me what's happening here.”

He switched on the light and scowled at her. “I was going to leave a note.”

“Oh, sure. A note. That's just great. Saying you'll leave a note is right up there with promising to call me sometime.”

“Okay, okay.” He rubbed his stubbled chin. “I
was hoping you wouldn't notice that I was gone until later, but since you're awake…”

She eyed him. “This had better be good.”

He shrugged. “I woke up a few minutes ago and it occurred to me that the job of finding Liz Guthrie might move a little quicker if I took a look around her place. There might be something there that would point to where she went. Something it will take Okuda much longer to find with his computer.”

She felt her jaw unhinge. “Good grief. Are you telling me that you're trying to sneak out of here so that you can go break into Liz's house?”

“Put like that, it lacks a certain air of innocence, doesn't it? But in a nutshell, yeah, that's about it. I was afraid that if you realized what I was going to do, you'd insist on coming along.”

“You got that right.” She marched past him into the bathroom. “I'll be ready in ten minutes.”

She stepped into the shower and reflected on the vast sense of relief that was welling up inside her. The fact that she was about to accompany Trask on a little jaunt that could land them both in jail was a mere bagatelle compared to her fear that he had been walking out after their torrid two-night stand.

Correction: Torrid two-night
relationship
.

“Trask?”

He got into the shower beside her and reached for the soap. “Yeah?”

“What if Liz is home?”

“In that case, I've got some questions for her.”

An hour later Alexa stood with Trask in Liz Guthrie's kitchen. She was aware that, technically
speaking, dawn had arrived, but no one would ever know it here in the depths of Shadow Canyon. Outside the window, the trees that surrounded the house were dark, hulking specters.

A chill of unease swept through her as she studied the darkened kitchen. She grimaced at the smell of rotting garbage. “So much for hoping Liz would be back by now.”

“She definitely left in a hurry. Didn't empty the trash. Forgot to lock all the doors and windows.” Trask swept the beam of a small flashlight across the kitchen counter. “The question is why.”

“You think something scared her?”

“Something or someone.”

Trask glanced back over his shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yes.” She was lying through her teeth, but she was not about to admit that part of her was braced to see a faceless figure armed with a knife explode out of a closet.

“I told you it would be a bad idea for you to come with me,” Trask said.

“Yes, you did. But I'm here, so there's absolutely no point saying I-told-you-so. Let's just get this done.”

His brows rose. “We're a little tense this morning, aren't we?”

“We haven't had our morning tea,” she reminded him. “What, exactly, are
we
looking for?”

“I'm not sure.” Trask moved slowly into the gloom-filled hall. “But in keeping with the old adage about following the money, I'd very much like to find some business files.”

Alexa opened a cupboard with gloved fingers. “You're
still convinced that whatever is going on is business-related?”

“Dimensions Institute is, first and foremost, a business. And like I keep saying, this thing is linked to Dimensions. Got to be.”

She could not argue that point, she decided. She took out her own small penlight, switched it on, and trailed after Trask as he explored the dark, silent house.

“The officer who responded to my call was right,” she said, taking in the sight of the expensive-looking stereo in the living room. “There's no sign that anything has been disturbed. No wonder he told Strood that I must have been hallucinating.”

“He didn't tell Strood that you were seeing things.”

“Yes, he did. I overheard them talking when I came back from the ladies' room at the police station. He implied I was an hysterical female who had spooked at a shadow. Don't bother to deny it. Strood probably said as much to you.”

Trask opened a closet door.

“Didn't he?” Alexa repeated grimly.

Trask closed the door. “He did say something to that effect. I told him he was an idiot.”

She was oddly touched. “Thanks. I appreciate your faith in my mental health.”

“Hey, we paranoid conspiracy theorists have to stick together. After all, they're out to get us.” He opened a door off the hall and aimed the flashlight inside. “We're in luck. There's a desk and some file cabinets in here. Looks like a home office.”