Stolen: A Novel of Romantic Suspense (16 page)

The desk was massive and cluttered with paperwork that had been neglected during her stay at the hospital. It was piling up with alarming frequency and sooner or later, she was going to have to devote a few days to catching up on things. A problem for another day, she figured. From the corner of her eye, she saw Elliot studying her bookshelves. Particularly the one that held her author copies. The muscles along her shoulders started to tighten and she winced as a warning spasm went screaming up her spine.

She forced herself to relax and then sat down at her desk, tapping the mouse until the screen came to life.
The browser was still active from her last session. She hit the link to view the website so she wasn’t in under the administration area and found herself staring at the notice she’d posted.

“Why did you do it?” Elliot asked from just behind her.

“A better question would be the one you asked … why didn’t I think to do it sooner.” Shay shrugged. Then she groaned and reached up, cupping a hand over her neck. The muscles felt tighter than bowstrings and her head was pounding, throbbing … she thought she just might puke if this kept up. “I’m sorry she’s doing this to you.”

Elliot brushed his fingers down her neck, almost as if asking permission.

Slowly, she eased her hand away and let him curve his against her nape, as he had in the kitchen. This time, he just let it rest there for a moment, the heat of his hand seeping into her skin, easing some of the tension with just that one touch. “Something occurred to me earlier. I came out here to tell you what it was, and to try and think this through with you. Well, that, and to apologize. I’ve apologized. Now I think we need to talk about the other shit. I think I’m just collateral damage, Shay. She doesn’t give a flying fuck about me. It’s you she’s going after.”

She closed her eyes.

He pressed the heel of his hand against the knotted muscles, lightly, then eased up. He did it a second, then a third time, waiting until the muscles relaxed before doing anything else. “Am I right?”

“How in the hell am I supposed to know?” she asked quietly. Even though the words sent a bolt of fear darting through her.

“Well, you have to have a better clue than I do … it’s your life she’s jerking around with, isn’t it?”

Shay snorted. “I’m not the one she accused of rape.”

“But she expected you to have a reaction to that. Didn’t she?” He shifted his attention to another spot, repeating the process he’d used. “I mean, I could be off here, I know that. I could be way off. Maybe this is some crazy chick who’s got a hate-on for me, and it’s just coincidental that it’s all playing out at the same time you’re dealing with this crazy shit. But …”

“It sure doesn’t seem likely,” Shay finished. Her head slumped forward. The muscles felt looser already, and she wished like hell he would just stop talking and keep touching her. Forcing herself to focus on his words took more effort than she could possibly imagine; of course, that could be because she didn’t
want
to think.

All she wanted to do was let him touch her. And keep touching her. Then she wanted to turn around and touch him, keep touching him. Maybe this time she could do it without those demons slipping in. She’d never been able to do it before, but then again, she’d never been that determined to try. Elliot had never pushed. He’d known there were issues … had known she had secrets. And maybe that was why she’d kept him locked out. Shay had understood, deep inside, that sooner or later she’d have to let him in, and she just hadn’t been prepared for that.

Am I now?

The very thought filled her with terror, but one thing was certain … if she had a chance to have him back in her life, she was going to grab it. Grab it and hold on tight.

Except none of that could happen while somebody was out there screwing around with their lives.

Forcing all the need and frustrated longing in her body aside, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes, staring at the computer, at the message she’d written. Then she opened another browser window and went to
Facebook, using the fake persona to go to the “Shane” page.

She skimmed it over, but didn’t see much to get excited over.

Except the
LIKE
count was down. By maybe a thousand …?

Shrugging, she glanced over her shoulder at Elliot. “I don’t see anything to get excited over,” she said.

“She’s been deleting shit, then.” He nodded toward the computer. “May I?”

She eased over to the side, starting to rise, but all he did was lean over her. For a moment, just the nearness of him, the warmth of him, surrounded her and she felt goose bumps break out even as heat flooded her and her heart jumped up into her throat. Fear and desperate desire tangled inside her and she had to clench her hands into fists to keep from reaching for him.
Months …
it had been
months
and he still got to her like this. Having him so close left her heart racing and her skin felt tight.

She missed him. She needed him—

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice just a breath away from her ear. “There.”

She swallowed and stared at the screen. It was a little different now.

“She’s been deleting the comments,” Elliot said. “But she can’t keep up with it … look again.”

Forcing her brain to focus on the matter at hand, not on the fire burning in her belly, Shay leaned forward. Then she tensed as the outer curve of her breast brushed against his arm. A gasp lodged in her throat and the slow crawl of blood up her neck warned her that she wouldn’t be able to hide her blush from him. Keeping her gaze focused on the screen, she told herself,
Fake it until you make it
. She reacted to him … she always had. And yes, she wanted to try this with him again, if he was willing.

But she needed to get this straightened out first.

One fucking disaster at a time—that was all she could handle.

She would start by focusing on the messages on the page in front of her.

One of them read:

Another comment—

The next one was a little more sympathetic, but still, the disbelief was there.

There were more of them … dozens, at least.

“Huh.” She clicked to refresh the page, and immediately wished she hadn’t. Because all of those comments were gone. “What the hell?”

“Told you. She’s deleting them. She’ll just keep it up, too. Have you contacted Facebook about this?”

Shay sighed, resting her chin in her palm and staring at the glaring white screen. “Yeah, as soon as I realized what was going on. And it did zero good.” The headache pounding behind her eyes seemed to gain in strength and she rubbed the line between her eyebrows, but it didn’t do anything to ease the pain.

“It probably takes a few days, and I doubt they do
much over the weekend. Give it time.” He brushed his fingers down her cheek, a light, questioning touch.

Shay turned her head to look at him. He was so close … so close. She could smell the coffee on his breath, the scent of the soap he used. The gold of his eyes seemed to darken and she could recall how his gaze would do that right before he’d kiss her.

Was he thinking about that now?

Her heart skipped a beat and she thought about leaning in, pressing her lips to his. What would he do if she did that? Her heart didn’t just skip a beat this time. It all but jumped into her throat and she couldn’t help but think about what
she
would do …

The blaring ring of the phone shattered the silence of the night. Shay jolted and then swore, swinging around in her seat to stare at the phone.

Not now
, she thought glumly as disappointment crashed into her. She already knew who it was.

Not that many people would be calling her, especially after eight-thirty. She could always hope that Anna had finally gotten around to checking her email, but that wasn’t likely. Her gut told her something really screwed up was going on with her agent.

It wasn’t Anna, and as much as she could hope it might be Angie, she knew it wasn’t her either. It was Darcy.

Taking a deep breath, she reached for the phone.

And prepared herself to discover something very unpleasant about one of her only friends.

EIGHT

“H
EY, IT
’
S ME
!” D
ARCY STARED AT THE COMPUTER AS
she waited for Shay to respond.

The message on the screen was so plainly, simply stated. Even though she’d had a few hours to steam about it, she still couldn’t believe this had happened, and Shay hadn’t given her any of the damn passwords, so she couldn’t get in and change the damn thing, either.

She’d never seen this coming.

Darcy didn’t know why exactly, except for the fact that Shay just didn’t interact with the outside world. Not unless she absolutely had to—and this wasn’t an absolute necessity, not as far as Darcy was concerned. If Shay had found it necessary, why hadn’t she allowed Darcy to do it?

Of course, that would have been interesting, Darcy thought, muffling a laugh. Interesting. To say the least.

“Hello, Darcy,” Shay said quietly, her voice strangely reserved.

“I saw the message on your site. That’s … well, unexpected. You know, I could have handled that.” She paused, and then added, “Except you haven’t gotten me my new passwords. Did you ever find out what happened to my access?”

“I’m working on it.” Shay was quiet; then, off in the background, Darcy heard a low voice. Too low … deep, rougher.

A man’s voice.

Darcy narrowed her eyes. What the
hell
was this? What was going on?

She made herself smile. It was easier to pretend to be happy if she was smiling. “Shay! You tramp. Do you have somebody over there?” It was like spitting out glass, making herself sound excited.

What was that little bitch thinking? Didn’t she remember how badly things went the last time she tried to actually have a fucking relationship? They just didn’t
work
for her.

“Yes. I do.”

Again, her voice was cool. Almost closed off. Turning away from the computer, Darcy started to pace, moving to stare out the window. The moon gleamed in the sky, shining down on the snow like silver.

“Sooo … should I call back?” she teased.
You better not tell me no
.

“Actually, no. This is a good time to talk.”

Oh, excellent … this is excellent
. Shay knew she wasn’t ready to get involved with anybody. She wasn’t ever going to be ready. The only person she really needed was Darcy. “If you want, I can wait while you tell him good-bye …?”

“Nah, Elliot doesn’t mind waiting for me.”

The satisfaction Darcy had been feeling abruptly started to fade. A muscle twitched in her brow. “Elliot.” Rage gripped her, twisted her. “So you’re still talking to that asshole who dumped you. Isn’t he the one who raped … well, I dunno who she is, but I saw something on Facebook. If he’s dangerous, should you be alone with him?”

Shay snorted. “Well, if she’s lying about being
me
, it stands to reason she’d lie about that, too, doesn’t it?”

Darcy reached up and grabbed a fistful of her hair, jerking at it. The sharp pain flared, but it wasn’t enough to keep her focused on the conversation. Her voice came out razor sharp as she said, “But how are you so fucking
sure
she’s lying, huh? Men do assaholic things all the time, don’t they? And come on, you know hardly anything about him—there was some kind of mess when he was in the military. Did he ever tell you that?”

“What in the world are you talking about?”

That bite of anger in Darcy’s voice wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar one. No, Shay had heard it before, dealt with it before—it was the rage Darcy seemed to show when things weren’t exactly going
her
way. Sort of like the fight they’d had when Darcy had been adamant that Shay fire her agent.

She hadn’t always been that way, but it seemed that Shay saw it more and more lately.

When Darcy didn’t answer right away, Shay rose from her chair and moved to stare out the window. She was vaguely aware that Elliot was watching her, but her attention was focused on Darcy now. “Just what do you know that you aren’t telling me, Darcy?” she asked softly. “You’ve never even met him.”

As she talked, she wound the cord around her fingers, keeping her gaze on the dark of the night. If she turned and looked at Elliot, she was going to lose her focus and she couldn’t do that right now …

“He got in trouble like this before, Shay. Really, don’t you ever pay attention to things?” Then she laughed softly. “Wait, that’s why I’m here, right?” On the other end of the line, Darcy sighed, her voice heavy with that put-upon tone—
poor me, I’m so unappreciated …