Double Dating with the Dead (22 page)

Oh, Lord, he looked at her with pity in his eyes. The last thing she wanted was pity. She wasn't sure which was worse, that he felt sorry for her or that he thought she was conning the public.

“You saw Dixie, didn't you?” she asked Paige.

Her cousin shook her head. “I thought I heard a strange woman's voice, but I was having trouble with the green smoke machine.”

“See! I told you it was all an elaborate setup.”

Paige wiggled out from behind the desk. “Uh, I think I'll…uh…remove myself from the line of fire. Sorry, cuz. I thought this would work, too. I guess it backfired.” She scooted out the door.

Selena clamped her lips together and socked her hands on her hips. “Dixie was the real thing. I wanted to draw her out, and I did. What you saw was a ghost. Not mirrors or something we concocted.”

“I don't care. It doesn't matter anymore.” He waved his arm in front of him. “All this doesn't matter. I don't care what you were trying to do. But I've come to realize I care about you. We'll figure out something so we can end this stupid challenge, but I refuse to let what we have between us end.”

“Don't you see? It does matter to me. There can never be an
us
if you don't believe.” She sniffed.

Oh, God, she was going to cry. She couldn't let him see her cry. She ran from the room, through the kitchen and out the back door, letting it slam behind her.

She heard Paige's attempt to start her Jeep that she refused to trade in, swearing that the heap of metal was like an old friend.

Selena knew she could stay the night with her cousin. That wasn't what she wanted to do, but she didn't want to go back inside and face Trent, either. Not until she had a chance to bring her emotions under control.

Damn him for being so hard headed! And for wanting to write a stupid book about her.

The Jeep sputtered to life.

Selena didn't move as she listened to Paige leave. She looked behind her at the hotel. Was he gloating? Scribbling more lies into his black notebook? She should've burned it!

The light from the kitchen cast all but a narrow strip of the backyard in shadow. She kicked at a small rock and began walking down the yard.

Why couldn't she make him see?

Trent should've figured out that Paige might be good with the mirrors and sound, but she wasn't that good. Dixie had finally appeared, and he couldn't see her for what she was.

Her plan had worked only to backfire. Damn and double damn. She stepped onto a boarded platform. Lord, she had to have the rottenest luck with men.

There was a crack beneath her. She looked down just as the bottom fell from beneath her. She gasped as the air whooshed past her. She landed with a thud, banging her head.

“What happened?” she mumbled as she tried to stand. She reached out and came back with a handful of damp earth. When she moved her head to look around, a sharp pain shot through it.

“Ow.”

She touched the tender area. It came away wet. Blood? She couldn't see. The world began to spin. “Oh…hell.”

Everything closed in on her, and she knew she was going to pass out.

“Trent. Help….”

T
rent flinched when he heard Paige's vehicle start and pull away. Just as he'd flinched when he heard Selena slam out the back door.

She was gone.

Why the hell did he have to believe in ghosts to have a relationship with her? He was willing to accept she was…was…

Was what?

Someone who was ripping off the public? Having any kind of relationship with her would go against everything he believed in. But he still didn't think she was conning people.

Maybe unknowingly?

Who was he kidding?

He walked around the library. The mirrors were there, the recorder for the sounds—even a damn smoke machine. Although he had to admit she'd done a bang-up job bringing Dixie to life…or death, according to how you looked at it.

It still didn't change what she was doing or make it right. He should just admit he'd been duped again. Selena was a carbon copy of Celeste, and he was old enough to have known better.

He cut off the light as he left the room.

A beer right now would be nice. Alcohol might numb the emptiness inside him. But rather than walk toward the kitchen, he went in the opposite direction.

Sleep. He'd lose himself in sleep and hopefully not dream of Selena tonight. Or maybe he would. It seemed they got along better in slumber.

“Trent,” someone called as he passed by the front door.

He hesitated, wondering if he'd actually heard his name being called. He went to the door and listened. Nothing. Rather than go to his room, he went outside. A welcome breeze caressed his face. Then he saw her.

“Matilda, you're up late tonight.” He noted her worried frown. “Nothing wrong, is there?”

“You have to help her.” She twisted her apron in her hands.

A cold feeling of dread washed over him. “Who?”

“Why, the girl, of course.”

“Selena? She left with her cousin.”

Matilda shook her head. “No, no. She fell.”

The air left his body, and for a second he couldn't breathe. “Where is she, Matilda?”

She pointed behind the house.

The well. Damn, he'd meant to warn Selena, but he hadn't thought she'd explore the backyard and certainly not at night. What if she were…He swallowed past the lump in his throat.

“I have to get help.” He turned back toward the house.

“No time. You have to get her out now.”

He didn't know what was going on, but he had a feeling it wasn't just fear talking. He ran to the back of the house, calling over his shoulder, “Be careful. You might want to stay in the light.”

As he hurried to the well, sweat beaded his forehead, and it was all he could do to draw air into his lungs. It was as if he had a band around his chest that tightened the closer he got to the well.

“Selena!”

Silence.

He could see the hole where she'd fallen through. He got down on the ground and peered into the well.
Oh, God, please let her be okay
, he silently prayed.

“Selena, can you hear me?”

He listened. Nothing. No, was that a moan?

“Selena?”

“Trent?” Her voice was faint.

There was a slight shift of the shadows. His stomach turned over. She was alive. Thank God!

“Are you hurt?”

“I'm not sure. I fainted after I fell. My head hurts. I think I found Dixie and Wesley's bones, though. Ewww. Can you get me out of here? It smells really bad, and I'd rather not stay here any longer than I have to.”

He breathed easier as her voice became stronger with each word. “I can't reach you. Will you be all right while I go get something to get you out of there?”

“Hurry.”

“I will.” His heart was thumping madly in his chest as he jumped to his feet and hurried to the shed, praying every step of the way there'd be a rope or something. Right before he stepped inside, he saw Matilda leave. To call for more help? An ambulance?

He jiggled the door until he got it past the overgrown weeds that wanted to keep him out. It was too dark to see. As much as he hated to, he had to return to the house for some kind of light.

He hurried back into the hotel and grabbed the first thing he saw—candles.

Once inside the shed, he lit one and raised it high. No rope, but better still, there was a ladder propped in the corner. Wooden, rather than metal, but it would work if the rungs weren't rotted.

He set the candle in a safe place and brought the ladder out, testing each rung. It looked safe enough to hold Selena's weight, and felt as heavy as a ton of bricks as he carried it to the well.

“I have a ladder,” he told her.

Selena sniffed. It had seemed as if he'd been gone forever. Her head hurt, her right ankle ached, she was filthy and smelled to high heaven. It was mushy because of the recent rains, and there were bones. Ewww. Dixie and Wesley had been dumped in the old well.

“I'm going to lower the ladder,” Trent told her, but before he did, he held a candle over the opening. “It might not be long enough, but if you can get to the top, I can bring you out the rest of the way. Do you think you can climb it?”

“If it would get me out of here, I'd climb up barbed wire.”

As he lowered the ladder, she scooted out of the way. Ow. She felt as if she'd been trampled by a herd of angry bulls.

“Just take it slow and easy.”

“Believe me, I'm not going to sprint.” She grimaced.

“Are you okay? If you can't make it, I'll call the fire department.”

“Wouldn't that make a good story: Psychic Didn't See It Coming.”

“Don't joke.”

“I wasn't,” she mumbled as she reached for the ladder and began to pull herself to a standing position. Gingerly, she put weight on her ankle. It hurt, but she didn't think it was broken.

“Take it slow and easy.”

She sniffed. It was dark. And she hurt. She wanted to go home. Not to her apartment, but home where her mom could pamper her and make her feel all better. She stopped her climb long enough to wipe the back of her hand across her nose. Yuck.

Slowly, she made her way up the ladder, one rung at a time. When she reached the last one, Trent reached down and took her arm so she could stand on the very top and helped her the rest of the way out of the well.

She fell into his arms, choking back a sob as his strength enveloped her. “I was just standing there and then the bottom fell out from under me. And there were bones down there and everything and you don't believe ghosts exist and I found your notebook and yes I read it and you're going to write a book that says I'm a fraud and I'm not,” she ended on a hiccup, knowing she was babbling, but it had been a really shitty day, and she figured she had the right to babble.

“It's okay now,” he soothed, brushing her hair away from her face. “I'm here, and just because I don't believe the same way doesn't mean I don't care about you. And I promise you that I'm not going to write a book about you. I know you're not a fraud.”

“You do?” She looked up at him, not quite believing what he was telling her.

“Yes, I do.”

“How do you know?”

“Can we just get you in the house?”

“No, I need to know.”

He let out a frustrated sigh. “Call it faith or a gut feeling. I don't know. It's hard to explain. I just know.”

The rest would follow. She had no doubt about it. For now, she'd settle for what she could get.

She sniffed and caught the odor of the damp earth that clung to her clothes. “I stink.” Her bottom lip trembled.

“I'll bathe you.”

She liked the sound of that. Even better than the thought of going home to her mother.

“Lean on me,” he told her.

Before they went upstairs, he had her sit in one of the kitchen chairs while he checked her for injuries.

“You have dried blood in your hair, but the cut looks superficial.” He ran his hands over her body. She winced when he came to her ankle. “It doesn't look broken, no swelling.”

She shook her head. “Just a little tender.” She was more concerned with how she looked and smelled. “Can we just go upstairs? I really need a bath.”

He nodded and helped her to stand.

They made their way into the house and up the stairs. He had her sit on the toilet while he ran her bath, and then he undressed her. Slowly, one article of clothing at a time.

When she began to shiver from reaction rather than the cold, he talked to her. She didn't focus on his words as much as she did the sound of his voice.

And after he helped her into the tub of warm water, he began to bathe her, and a different feeling washed over, stealing away the fear she'd felt after she'd fallen into the well.

She closed her eyes. She didn't want to think, didn't want to remember…she only wanted to feel the soapy washcloth as Trent glided it over her.

He brushed the rough cloth over her nipples, and they immediately tightened into sensitive nubs. She moaned, thrusting her chest out, wanting more.

“I didn't run the bath and start washing you just so I could have sex,” he said.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. He was sincere. Even though this had to be affecting him, he wouldn't go any further. He would go to his bed without release.

He might, but she wasn't about to.

It was okay they didn't think the same way. And maybe she was gullible or stupid…but she believed him when he said he wasn't going to write a book condemning her to the world.

She trusted her instincts and she trusted him. Taking his hand, she brought it to her chest and hugged it close.

“I know you won't write the book.” Her hesitation was brief. “Make love to me.”

He knelt down, sliding his hand behind her head and bringing her closer before touching his lips to hers. He kissed her long and deep, his tongue stroking hers, heat inflaming her senses. Her body tingled to awareness as his other hand cupped her breast, his thumb brushing across her sensitive nipple.

He ended the kiss, then lowered his head and brushed his tongue across her hard nipple before sucking it into his mouth. Just when she thought she would explode, he moved away.

“Don't stop.”

“I couldn't if I wanted to, but I want you crying my name, begging me to enter you.”

“Torture,” she cried.

“Revenge for making me think you were a knife-wielding maniac ready to carve my heart out.”

“I was good, wasn't I?” Selena was damn proud of her acting abilities.

“I'm going to make you pay for that stunt.”

Oh, God, she hoped so. Anticipation built inside her. She was ready to call his name right now, beg, whatever it took to have him inside her. She'd never wanted a man as badly as she wanted Trent right now.

But she could only watch through passion-glazed eyes as he took the bar of soap and worked up a lather. She knew without a doubt he was going to run the suds over her body, between her legs. She bit her bottom lip as expectation began to build.

He slid the bar of soap over each breast. “I like the way your body arches,” he said. “The way your nipples tighten at the briefest touch.”

He lathered each one while the fire inside her threatened to consume her. He slid the soap lower, over her abdomen, then lower still but not low enough. No, not nearly low enough.

“You like that?”

“Lower,” she breathed.

“Here?” He brushed just across the top of her mound.

“Lower,” she cried out in desperation.

“Open your legs.”

She immediately did as he asked, but there wasn't enough room. “Can't.”

“Can you stand?”

“I…I think so.” If she couldn't, it wouldn't be from her fall, the well hadn't been that deep, but rather from the weakness he'd made her feel.

He helped her to her feet. “How's your ankle?”

She put weight on her foot. A slight ache, nothing more. “It's okay.”

“You're beautiful,” he whispered.

A flush of embarrassment washed over her, but the thought of him touching her overrode any inhibitions she might have.

He knelt in front of her. Taking the soap, he lathered his hands, not getting in any hurry. Or so it seemed to her. “Please, Trent.”

“Please what?”

“Touch me before I die.”

He laid the soap down and pressed his palm against her sex, applying slight pressure.

“Yes, that's it.” She moved against his hand, closing her eyes, letting this little bit of release wash over her.

Slowly, he began to move his hand; then his fingers tangled in her curls before sliding over her sex. She slid her hands down her thighs and back up as the pleasure built inside her.

Suddenly, he stood, scooping her into his arms, and carried her dripping wet to his bed and laid her gently on top of the covers.

“I'll soak them.”

“Then we'll move to your bed later.”

She watched as he stripped out of his clothes. “I want you.”

He lay on the bed beside her, but rather than immediately taking her into his arms, he brushed the hair from her face, caressing her cheek.

“I started taking notes the first day. I thought you were like Celeste.”

When she opened her mouth, he lightly placed a finger over her lips.

“No, I need to say this again. I had planned on writing the book, but the more I was around you, the more I knew I couldn't. You're a good person, Selena James, and it shines through.”

He raised on one elbow and kissed her. His lips were firm, yet gentle, sending pulse waves of pleasure throughout her body. Her arms circled around him, drawing him closer. Her breasts rubbed against the springy hairs on his chest, adding to her pleasure.

All too soon, he ended the kiss, but before she could protest, he moved his mouth to her breast, running his tongue across her tight nipple before sucking it into his mouth. She whimpered, her hands running over his firm back, feeling his muscles bunch.