Only for You (15 page)

“Tired?” she asked incredulously. “Are you kidding?”

He lifted his head slowly. His face was shadowed but she saw the glint of his eyes. “Because if you’re not tired, I’d rather push through.”

“You would?”

“Now that this has happened once,” she sensed him glance down at her bared torso, “do you want it to happen again?”

His deep voice echoed in her ears.

“You mean . . . just while we’re on this escape mission?” she asked wryly. But Seth’s serious expression didn’t flinch. He nodded.

“Yes. I mean . . . I
think
so,” she said honestly. She wanted to do things like skydive someday, too, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be nervous as all hell and having second thoughts standing on the edge of that plane, considering a free fall to earth. “Do you?”

The two simple words sounded very vulnerable to her, hanging in the air between them, exposed. His head tilted downward. Her naked skin prickled with awareness at his stare.

“I can’t imagine not touching you, now that I have. I’d rather get to a place that I know you’re safe, though, before . . . indulging.”

A spike of excitement went through her at his words.

“You can think about it? While we’re on the road?” he asked with a pointed glance when she didn’t answer immediately. She swallowed thickly and nodded. He was asking her if she wanted to indulge in phenomenal, no-strings-attached sex while they were on the lam together for the next few weeks. She thought she knew her answer, but maybe he was right. She shouldn’t decide when her flesh still sang from his touch and the scent of Seth and sex filled her nose.

“Okay. I’ll think about it,” she said, brushing back his hair with one hand. “But you shouldn’t worry so much. I’ll be safe, no matter what, as long as you’re there.”

He caught her brushing hand with his. “Do you really believe that?”

She started in surprise at his intensity. She weighed the question. “Yes,” she said with conviction. “I’ll drive. You should rest, and I’m wide awake.” She bit her lip when he didn’t speak, one hand still shaping and caressing her breasts gently. “Are you starting to regret it already, Seth?” she asked shakily.

He smoothed one hand on the skin above her left breast. She wondered if he felt her heart bumping. “I don’t think it’s possible to regret what just happened,” he said gruffly.

“No?” she queried softly. “Not like what happened two years ago?”

He exhaled heavily and dropped his warm hand from her breast. His fingertips traced her eyebrow. “A big part of me didn’t regret that, Bright Eyes. You’re too smart not to realize that.”

A pressure swelled in her chest.
Bright Eyes.
He hadn’t called her that since that night two years ago.

She believed him wholeheartedly in those sweet moments after the rapture of the storm. Still, reality crept in slowly once they were on the road again. They’d been in a fever of lust and had given in gloriously.

But surrendering to the inevitable and liking it were two very different things.

*   *   *

Seth instructed her to get onto I-40 toward Oklahoma City. She’d been highly aware of him studying the mirrors for the past hour as she drove.

“Do you think we’re being followed?” she asked anxiously. She hadn’t noticed him watching so closely before, but he’d been driving when glancing into the rearview mirror was more usual.

“No. I’m almost one hundred percent certain we haven’t been,” he said at the same time he reclined the passenger seat. “That’s why I took parts of Historic 66. It’s hard to tail someone on a road like that for long distances and get away with it. Now that we’re on the main interstate, just be mindful of any cars that travel for long periods behind you and don’t pass, even ones that are two or three cars back or ones that pass you but still stay in proximity. I know it’s hard in the dark, but take note of colors and makes of cars, if you can. Just be alert.”

“Okay,” Gia agreed, glancing in her mirrors. “I can’t believe anyone would invest so much time and energy to follow us this far, though.”

“For the money they could get selling an exclusive story? A reporter would follow you much farther than this,” Seth stated flatly. “Quite a few people would. Or they could call ahead and have a tail pick us up once they sighted us.”

She glanced aside. Had he meant someone else might follow them beside the press?

“Do you mean McClarin’s people?” she asked him.

“I doubt it, but anything’s possible. Has there been
any
contact made between him or one of his followers and you? Even something remote, like an e-mail?” She felt his searching stare on her cheek.

“No. I think you’re wrong to be concerned about it. Madeline and Charles agree with me. They’re just playing it safe with this whole escape from L.A. thing because they’re worried about the press. Do you really feel that differently about it?” she asked bemusedly, frowning at the road. “I happen to know that Jeannie’s mom has had Jeannie sent away to relatives in South Carolina until the trial, but no one thinks it’s because of a danger thing. That poor girl just needs a break from this crap.”

“I’d be a fool to act like I know everything. I’m just being careful. I don’t think there’s a bodily threat against you, but I think Madeline and Charles are right to want you away from that press zoo. I also agree that the chances are excellent nothing will happen in regard to McClarin influencing you.”

“
Attempting
to influence me,” she corrected.

“Don’t be so certain a man like McClarin wouldn’t find a way into your cracks,” Seth said. “Everyone has a weakness or an insecurity. Everyone. McClarin thrives off information like that. He preys on the weak and vulnerable and emotionally unstable.”

“You think I’m
emotionally unstable
?” she demanded, insulted.

“No, I don’t. I
do
think McClarin’s more dangerous than a lot of people realize though.”

“You don’t have to convince me,” Gia assured, gripping the wheel harder. Her muscles always went stiff at the disturbing memory of walking down the hallway in the Salinger home and opening that bedroom door. McClarin hadn’t realized Gia would show up for an emergency hair appointment with Mary Salinger, her hairdresser, that day. He’d known Jeannie was alone and vulnerable. Gia had made the plans with Jeannie’s mother over the phone. When Gia arrived, Mary hadn’t reached home yet. Her fourteen-year-old-daughter Jeannie had been there, though.

If only I’d gotten there sooner.

An ache went through her at the familiar thought. At least she had
been
there. Mary was an avid follower of the New Temple and in awe of Sterling McClarin. If Gia hadn’t witnessed McClarin’s crime firsthand, she feared McClarin would have hushed Mary. And Mary, in turn, would have silenced her daughter. It was just one more reason Gia was determined to testify and do her part.

“McClarin is finished, Gia. It’s just a matter of keeping you safe and counting off the days.”

Gia blinked in surprise at Seth’s quiet intensity. She saw the gleam in his eyes and knew he’d noticed her anguish at thinking of the rape. At Charles’s request, she had briefed Seth on what she’d witnessed.

“You all right?” Seth asked.

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

“Okay. I’m just going to rest my eyes for a few minutes. Wake me up in an hour?” Seth asked.

“In an hour? That’s all?”

“That’s all.” He crossed his arms below his waist and went still.

She checked the clock, but told herself she’d let him sleep longer than an hour if nothing unusual happened on the road. She was sure nothing would. Something told her that Seth wouldn’t “rest his eyes” if he weren’t confident all was well.

In the silence, her head filled with the volatile memories of what had just happened at that roadside gas station. Her sex still felt overly sensitive and damp, the nerves tingly with continued arousal. She turned the radio on a very low setting, hoping to distract herself as she drove.

Her resolve not to wake Seth went untested. After an hour, he uncrossed his arms and shifted his long legs. Gia glanced at his face and realized his eyes were open. He seemed completely alert. She looked at the digital clock on the dashboard.

“How did you do that?” she asked, amazed. He’d awakened exactly one hour from when he’d shut his eyes.

“Internal clock. It got honed in the Army,” he said, raising the back of the seat and finger-combing his longish hair. He checked his surroundings in the mirror and then picked up his cell phone and began briskly checking messages.

“How long did you serve in the Army?”

“Five years of active duty after college, two years of reserves,” he said distractedly. “Your driver’s name is Jim, isn’t that right?”

“What?” she asked, startled by his question. She grew concerned when she saw he was still peering at his messages. “Yes, Jim Adair. Is everything all right? Did you get some kind of message about Jim?”

“Not at all,” he said, making a scrolling motion with his thumb. His cell phone looked oddly small in his big hand. It was strange, the contrast of his largeness and the subtlety of his touch. “I’m just asking because I forgot to ask during our planning session. How long has Jim been with you?”

“Eighteen months,” Gia said, giving him a wary sideways glance.

“Do you trust him?”

“Completely,” Gia stated with force. “He lives on the grounds in the carriage house. I wouldn’t have anyone live so close that I didn’t trust completely.”

He nodded. “But we’re still in agreement that it would be best for you not to be in contact with him, or anyone at all, for the next few weeks?”

“Seth,” she said, exasperated. “Did you get a message that relates to Jim or not?”

“No,” he said with emphasis, setting down his phone. She caught a glimpse of his expression and sensed he was telling the truth. He quirked his dark eyebrows expectantly, and she made a frustrated sound.

“
Yes
, I agree that I won’t be in contact with anyone. I wrote my parents and a couple friends and told them I was okay, but off the map for a few weeks, just like we talked about. Jim and my housekeeper have been told something similar, except that Jim knows a little more since he was driving during the switch-off with Leti. You really are the suspicious type, aren’t you?”

“Now is not the time to be blindly trusting.”

“Am I supposed to read multiple meanings into that?”

“No,” he rumbled, the vision of him spreading and planting his long legs distracting her. “It’s just common sense in this situation.”

She scowled as she stared at the road. “Talk about doublespeak. You really are a trained spy, aren’t you?”

“Not anymore.”

“
Hmph
. Once a spy, always a spy,” she said under her breath. She felt his stare on her face in the darkness. It caused her neck to prickle in awareness. It was as if she could feel his hand pressing against her breast and beating heart and hear his roughened voice.

I don’t think it’s possible to regret what just happened.

She experienced an irrational desire for him to touch her. She tamped it down with effort.

“It almost sounds like when you talk about McClarin, it’s personal,” she said, rallying. When he didn’t respond—or even move—in the passenger seat, she shut off the radio. “Seth?” she prompted. “Do you
know
Sterling McClarin?”

“No, not personally,” he said after a pause. “Let’s just say I know of his type.”

She glanced at him expectantly. “What do you mean?”

He exhaled and raked his fingers through his hair in an impatient gesture.

“There was a girl who was an extra on a film I did a few years back. She was new to the area and the industry. She was young. Too young. Dharma came from a fucked-up family in a tiny town in Maine and had just come to Hollywood in hopes of healing all her scars by seeing her name in lights. She didn’t know anyone in L.A. and was excited and scared and just plain lonely. You know the type,” Seth said gruffly.

Gia clamped her mouth shut and stared at the road. Yeah, she knew the type, all right. Sad, sweet, naïve men and women who craved acknowledgment and self-esteem so much, they would do practically anything for the mother lode of the stuff: Fame.

Is that how Seth saw
her
—Gia? The thought made her vaguely queasy.

“She got mixed up with a new-age cult at the same time we were working on the film,” Seth was saying.

“The New Temple?” Gia asked.

He shook his head. “No, a smaller organization run by a Rasputin-type character named Vladimir Tomoriv, a Russian import with all of McClarin’s charisma and sex appeal, but not as much smarts for the financial side of swindling. I tried to warn Dharma off, but Tomoriv’s church—it was called God’s Chosen Few—promised her a place to belong and told her she was unique . . . one chosen out of many. She lapped up their attention and the special treatment built into the psychological mind-fuckery of a cult because she was starved for it. Long story short, she was dead within six months.”

“How?” Gia asked, startled.

“Exposure was the official cause, although when she was found dead in Franklin Canyon Park, she was also extremely malnourished and dehydrated. I noticed her losing weight, even while we were still filming. But according to her, this organization had her going through some kind of ‘purification’ ritual in order to reach the ‘next level,’ ” he muttered derisively, anger edging his tone. “It was just a way to break her down psychologically, make her more malleable to their indoctrination. When I informed the police about her involvement with the organization, they dragged their feet about investigating. The cause of death wasn’t murder, and no members of the cult could be linked to her presence in the canyon. I tried to confront Vladimir Tomoriv myself once, but he just spouted some new-age fiction at me and ran. It really galled me, to think of them getting away with the murder of an innocent girl. It was like . . .” he faded off, frowning, “she was disposable goods. Her death meant she hadn’t passed the test or something. They professed to be her mother, father, brother and friend. When she died, the God’s Chosen Few acted like Dharma Jana had never existed. They figured she hadn’t really been one of them after all.”