A Rare Chance

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A Rare Chance Page 5

by Carla Neggers

She gave him a weak smile. “Sorry. Look, I think I can reach between these boulders and get hold of your foot. Can you push up on your calf at the same time?”

  “Done.”

  With renewed energy, he sat forward and grabbed his lower leg with both hands, pushing up as she pulled on the toe of his battered running shoe, ignoring the cold. With their combined strength, they gradually worked his trapped ankle free.

  Gabriella scrambled up onto a rock and out of reach of the tide. Her hands were red and scraped, her dress rumpled and wet from the hips down, her pantyhose close to shredded. The bottoms of her feet had to be raw from the barnacles and rough rock, but she was too numb to feel much pain.

  Cam followed her, moving stiffly. He was soaked from head to toe, with slimy yellow-green seaweed snagged on the pockets and belt of his jeans. For a man so thickly built, he seemed agile, sure of his body and what it could do, even after the ordeal he’d been through. Gabriella wondered if his ankle was sprained or even broken and he was just too cold to feel it.

  “Are you all right?” she asked again.

  He nodded. “Thanks. For a while there I thought I’d die out here on the rocks like a goddamned snail. Lucky you came along.”

  “What now?”

  “Guess I’ll go back the way I came in. I’ve got my car parked in a scenic turnaround just outside the main gate.”

  Gabriella shivered in the breeze. “You can make it?”

  He shrugged. “No choice.”

  “Pete Darrow: He didn’t leave you…”

  “I don’t even know if he saw me. I fell, Gabriella. That’s all.”

  She nodded, not sure she believed him.

  “What about you?” he asked. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll think of something. You should be on your way. You need to get warm.”

  “If you run into Darrow—”

  “You don’t have to worry about me, Cam. I’ll be fine.”

  He squinted at her, his face pale and purplish from the cold. “You like going it alone, don’t you?”

  “I’m used to it.”

  “Well, be careful. I don’t like the feel of this thing. Darrow’s got something going, I don’t know what.” His eyes narrowed even more, studying her closely. “I’m thinking maybe I ought to be protecting you.”

  “Protecting me? Who just saved whose skin here?”

  “Like it or not, Gabby, we’re in this thing together.”

  A shiver went from the base of her spine up the middle of her back. She tried to blame the cold, but it wasn’t that kind of shiver. “Mr. Yeager—Cam—” She broke off, trying to think. “I don’t think we’re in this together at all. If we were, you’d tell me everything you know. You’d keep me informed of your movements. You wouldn’t keep turning up unexpectedly at the worst possible moment.”

  In spite of his cold, he grinned at her. “A thorn in your backside, am I?”

  “Let’s just say I’d prefer to look after my own interests than have you look after them for me. Now I should get back before Joshua sends someone after me—namely Pete Darrow. I don’t think I want to mention I’ve been down here plucking a trespasser off the rocks.”

  “You’ll have to think of some way to explain yourself. You look like holy hell.” He grinned, apparently oblivious to his chattering teeth. “Of course, holy hell should have such big brown eyes.”

  Gabriella felt a sudden warmth that was decidedly unnerving and wholly inappropriate. Now was not the time to respond to this man. She could feel the tide seeping up onto their rock. “I still have your number and address. If I find out anything, I’ll be in touch. But I warn you, I’ll only help you if you tell me everything.”

  “What more is there to tell? I’m checking out Pete’s new job. End of story.”

  “Ha.”

  “Must be fun being so smart.”

  She grinned at him, not rising to his bait. “It is,” she said, and about-faced and started up the rocks back toward the house. She glanced back only once, seeing Cam Yeager hobbling along the rocks close to the water, back out toward the main road.

  Holy hell should have such big brown eyes.

  Just what she needed, she thought. A cop turned prosecutor noticing her eyes. Or was it just a tactic to get under her skin? It didn’t matter, she told herself. She needed to concentrate on what he’d hoped to find out on Reading Point, not on what he thought of her eyes.

  When she got to the parking area, Pete Darrow eased out from the shadows. “Thought that was you. What happened? You hurt?”

  “I’m afraid I got too close to the water and slipped and fell. I’m not hurt, just embarrassed. I feel like a nine-year-old. I should never have gone down there dressed like this. Chalk one up for spring fever, I guess. Would you make my apologies to Joshua and Titus? I’m going to run home and get cleaned up. I’ll come back later to pick up my friend Lizzie.”

  She started for her car, trying to blame her shaking on the cold.

  “Lizzie Fairfax,” Pete Darrow said, coming up beside her. “I know who she is. You two drove up together.”

  Gabriella nodded, feeling queasy. “You do keep track, don’t you, Mr. Darrow?”

  He grinned at her, 007 on the prowl. “I do. There’s no need to drive back up here. I’ll make sure your friend gets home all right.”

  “I don’t mind driving back up—”

  “It’s okay, Ms. Starr. You go on home and rest up.”

  She gave him a stiff smile. He knew he made her uncomfortable. He had to know. Under different circumstances, she might have confronted him about following her. “Titus will be driving back to town. Maybe Lizzie could ride with him and save you the trip.”

  He didn’t return her smile. “I’ll ask him.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem. Drive safely. Get warm.”

  She shot into her car and drove too fast off Reading Point, avoiding her image in the rear-view mirror. When she got out to the main road, she pulled into the scenic turnaround, but there were no other cars there. She stayed in her car, her hands tight on the wheel, the engine running. Either Cam had gotten back all right and was on his way home or he’d never been parked there. He would lie if it suited him. Gabriella had no illusions about that.

  “Well then,” she muttered, gripping the wheel even more tightly, “he’s on his own.”

  And so was she.

  It wasn’t a comforting thought, and when she got to Boston she almost turned onto the flats of Beacon Hill. Cam Yeager lived on lower Pinckney Street. She had his address memorized. But it was dark outside now, and she was cold and wet, and her feet hurt, and she needed to pull herself together before she went knocking on his door.

  Cam made it back to Boston without flinging himself into the ocean to end his misery or marching up to Joshua Reading’s house to strangle his ex-partner. Sore, stiff, wet, and probably doomed to being cold forever, he flopped onto his couch and checked the baseball score. The Red Sox were down to the Yankees by one run. Yankees were up in the sixth, a man on first, one out.

  The game failed to distract him. He hadn’t even changed. His ankle was swollen and scraped and would hurt like hell all night, and the saltwater had glued his clothes to his body. A cold beer, an ice pack, then a hot bath and a bottle of aspirin were in order, as soon as he could get his sorry self back into gear.

  If Gabriella Starr hadn’t come along, he’d have either died of the cold or chewed his leg off like a trapped raccoon.

  But he was trying not to think about dark-haired, dark-eyed Gabriella Starr in her ruined party dress.

  He felt the ache in his ankle now. What kind of trouble was she in with Pete Darrow? Or was it with Joshua Reading? Or Titus? Or all of the above? Did she know anything about her boss’s gun habit?

  Cam used the remote to flip off his television. He could have gone to the ballgame. He had season’s tickets. He didn’t have to sneak around on Reading Point looking for a secret weapons arsenal.
Pete Darrow had told his ex-partner to stay the hell out of his life. Cam should oblige him.

  What Darrow would have done if he’d caught up with him out on Reading Point, Cam didn’t know. He’d seen Pete coming after him and ducked out of sight, in no mood for a showdown. But he didn’t know the ground, and he’d lost his footing and plunged five feet off a boulder. He’d landed hard below the tide line, wedging his right foot between two rocks. Before he could pull his foot free, a loose rock had rolled down onto his lower leg. In his reflex reaction, he’d managed to lodge his foot even more tightly between the two rocks.

  Enter Gabriella Starr.

  A hell of a thing, being rescued by a beautiful brown-eyed woman in pearls and a party dress. He got to his feet, pain and fatigue rolling over him as relentlessly as the tide had. He supposed it could have been worse.

  He could have not been rescued by a beautiful brown-eyed woman.

  Pete Darrow jumped down onto a flat rock above the tide, landing softly. The light from Joshua Reading’s house and the array of stars overhead penetrated the darkness, but he only needed to see well enough to identify signs that Cam Yeager had been there and gone, signs that he hadn’t been swept out to sea.

  He’d seen Yeager fall and get stuck and had figured to save the stupid bastard’s ass at the last minute, after he’d had a taste of the consequences of meddling in his ex-partner’s life. Yeager had wanted to quit the force and become a prosecutor, and Darrow had let him. Left him alone, left him to do his thing. Now Yeager owed him the same courtesy.

  Except, of course, he wasn’t on the rocks.

  He could have freed himself. Gabriella Starr might not have interfered.

  But Darrow knew she had. Her story about slipping on the rocks was bullshit. She’d found Cam and helped him.

  So why not mention the incident to her employers’ new security man?

  The wind swirled around, cold down by the water. The weather forecasters promised fair skies and warm temperatures for later in the weekend. Made no difference to Darrow. He took the weather as it came.

  He started back up to the house. For ten years he’d counted Cam Yeager among his best friends. For three years they’d been partners. He’d trusted him. They’d trusted each other. Relied on each other.

  No more.

  When he got back to the house, he slipped into the library overlooking the northern edge of Reading Point and poured himself a drink. He could hear the dinner party going on in the combined dining and living rooms. Lizzie Fairfax was a big hit. Joshua was smitten. Darrow could tell. She was pretty, elegant, feminine, captivating.

  She was also friends with Gabriella Starr.

  Even with the windows closed, Darrow could hear the ocean pounding the rocks, the wind.

  Yeager had escaped, hadn’t he? He couldn’t have been swept out to sea. Not that damned fast.

  Darrow sipped his bourbon. Did he want Yeager dead?

  No, he wanted him out of his life. He wasn’t going to let Yeager screw things up for him. He’d find Joshua’s weapons, and he’d bleed the bastard big time.

  And Yeager wasn’t dead. Gabriella Starr had rescued him. That made her more of a problem than she already was, but not one Darrow couldn’t handle.

  He patiently finished his drink, thinking and listening to the ocean and trying not to ask himself how in hell he’d gotten to the point where he’d almost let Cam Yeager drown.

  Chapter

  Four

  Gabriella spent Saturday morning overexercising at her Kenmore Square health club and talking herself out of marching over to Cam Yeager’s apartment and demanding to know every last detail of why he was following his ex-partner. But he wasn’t going to tell her anything he didn’t want to tell her. He was a former police detective. He was about to become a prosecutor. He would be into control, caution, keeping secrets. If it didn’t suit him, he wouldn’t talk.

  Even so, she had to admit she was hopelessly attracted to him. His energy and irreverence, his self-confidence, all appealed to her.

  So did his thighs, she thought, sliding into her table at the Newbury Street cafe where she was meeting Lizzie for lunch. It was Gabriella’s idea. She wanted to spend time with Lizzie, but she was also relieved to have something to do besides track down Cam Yeager and demand answers she knew he wouldn’t give her.

  Protect her, indeed. Work together, ha.

  Lizzie swooped into the little restaurant. She wore a dress that called up images of a spring garden, somehow feminine, understated, and sophisticated. Gabriella had changed from her exercise clothes into jeans and a cotton cardigan in a deep garnet. It was a perfect early May afternoon, warm and sunny, drawing people outdoors. The chic Back Bay street of shops, galleries, and salons was crowded, and spring fever was in the air.

  Gabriella started to apologize for her abrupt departure the night before, but Lizzie cut her off. “Don’t even start,” she said cheerfully. “I had absolutely the most wonderful time. Joshua told me you fell on the rocks. I just assumed you were up to your usual tricks. Checking out the tide? Honestly, Gabriella. Maybe you’ve reverted to form with Scag in town.”

  “I shudder to think. Anyway, I’m sorry. I’d planned to come back, but—”

  Lizzie waved a hand. “Forget it.”

  “How did you get home? Pete Darrow didn’t drive you, did he?”

  “Who?”

  “Joshua’s new security man.”

  “Oh, I know who you’re talking about. Tall, dark guy. Reminds me of—I don’t know, somebody.”

  “Sean Connery as 007.”

  Lizzie laughed, clapping her hands together. “Yes, that’s it! No, he didn’t drive me home. Joshua did.”

  “Joshua? But he had to make a special trip—”

  “Exactly.”

  Gabriella stared at her friend. “Lizzie?”

  “He’s a peach, Gabriella. Funny, personable, intelligent. We really hit it off. He’s invited me to dinner this evening here in town.”

  “Is this a date?”

  “Yes, of course it’s a date. You can be so dense sometimes, Gabriella. I—” She stopped, wincing. “Oh. Wait. Here I go again. I didn’t think about his being your boss. I mean, once we were at dinner and we hit it off so well, I just never even thought about it. I keep having to remember you’ve gone corporate. I hope—Gabriella, you know I’d never want to cause you problems.”

  “It’s okay, Lizzie. You’re free to see whoever you want to see. I haven’t told anyone Scag’s in town yet, but it’s not as if Joshua doesn’t know about my past.”

  As they placed their orders for salads, however, Gabriella couldn’t deny her uneasiness. Lizzie Fairfax was fun, attractive, smart. She loved being in love. It wasn’t out of character for her to fall for a man over dinner—or for a man to fall for her.

  “I didn’t mention Scag,” Lizzie said when their iced teas arrived.

  “I wasn’t thinking about that, Lizzie.”

  “But you haven’t told Joshua and Titus that he’s in town.”

  “I’m just waiting a little while, giving him a chance to figure out what he wants to do before I say anything.”

  Their salads arrived, curried chicken with grapes for Gabriella, fresh salmon for Lizzie. “He wants to go back to Ecuador for that damned orchid.”

  “He would. That doesn’t mean he’ll be able to. But that’s his problem. Right now no one knows he’s in Boston. He can keep a low profile and sort things out for himself. I don’t want him worrying about what impact his presence might have on my life here.”

  Lizzie raised her chin, her sincere, pretty green eyes fastening on Gabriella. “You can trust me, you know. I understand you and Scag need some time. That’s why I brought him up here. He thinks he’s going back into the field, but you and I both know he might not get there. I’ve tried to talk to him about alternatives, but he won’t listen. He’s stubborn.” She leaned back, smiling. “You two are more alike than either of you wants to admit.”

&nbs
p; “Uh-uh. I’m nowhere near as stubborn as that old man.”

  “You’re as stubborn and independent as he is, Gabriella. Neither of you can stand needing anyone’s help, particularly each other’s.”

  For no reason, Gabriella thought of Cam Yeager. I’m thinking maybe I ought to be protecting you. Did she need him? Should she work out some kind of deal with him so they could work together and figure out what, if anything, Pete Darrow was up to?

  “Gabriella?”

  She smiled quickly, realizing her attention had drifted. “Sorry. I must have done one too many pull-ups this morning. I hate those things. I’m thinking of taking a class in boxing. It’s supposed to be good exercise, a great way to relieve stress. What do you think?”

  Lizzie wrinkled up her nose. “It’s not for me. If I can’t wear a pretty leotard, I don’t do it.”

  Gabriella laughed. “God, I’ve missed you. You want to come back to my apartment after lunch? Or can’t you resist Newbury Street on a beautiful Saturday afternoon?”

  “What do you think?” Lizzie asked, a mischievous glint coming into her eyes.

  “Newbury wins out.”

  “I want to look for a dress for tonight. I didn’t bring many clothes with me. I wasn’t expecting to stay long, but now—who knows? Maybe I’ll come by later this afternoon. Scag’s there?”

  “Are you kidding? He calls my greenhouse an intensive care unit.”

  “Well, I’m glad he’s got something to do,” Lizzie said. “Here, let me pay for lunch. You can get the next one. If I don’t stop by later, I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know how things go tonight. I’m not out for any hot-and-heavy relationship. Joshua Reading and I are just going to have some fun together.”

  “I hope you do,” Gabriella said, meaning it.

  After Lizzie had left, Gabriella indulged in a strawberry tart and cappuccino while she processed the notion of her best friend dating Joshua Reading. She wanted Lizzie to have fun, but she also couldn’t pretend she was enthusiastic about Lizzie—her best friend, her father’s rescuer—dating her boss. In spite of their long friendship, Lizzie was removed from the life Gabriella had created for herself in Boston. TJR Associates was her world now. Lizzie was part of her life with Scag.

 

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