by Vella Day
Coming here had been a big mistake.
Chapter Three
Ellie had really botched that encounter. Why had she mentioned Charlotte? It was the one link she and Vic shared, but she didn’t want him to use that to get back with her. While he had left Ellie alone after he’d called a few months back, she could see it in his eyes that he still cared. Truthfully, she thought he’d be put off by her larger size. Fifty extra pounds wasn’t something she could hide, yet Vic seemed blind to her faults.
Damn him. If he’d made fun of her, she’d have been able to handle him better. As she strode toward her car, she spotted a sign for the Rock Hard Art museum. Since it would take Amy time to find the information—assuming she could get the owner to hand over the surveillance tapes—Ellie wanted to keep busy. And that meant doing something she loved instead of dwelling on Vic Hart.
So, for the next few hours she wandered first through the art museum, and then took in the Natural History Museum. On her way back to the hotel, she found a local gallery that looked interesting. The paintings of wild animals in the display window spoke to her. They were truly amazing. Ellie stepped inside and studied the brush strokes and the tonal quality of the composition.
“It’s quite superb, is it not?” said a voice behind Ellie.
She spun around to find an older woman with wild blonde-gray hair, wearing a long skirt, scuffed boots, and what looked like a homemade shawl. She would have fit in well at the Davies-Hart Gallery.
“Yes. It’s exceptional. Is the artist local?” Ellie would love to show some of his work in Virginia.
“He is. His name is Wolf Cunningham. I have his card at my desk. If you’ll give me a moment, I’ll find it for you.”
Wolf? “I’ve never met a Wolf.”
The proprietor laughed. “I’ve always assumed it was a nickname.”
While the woman went in search of the information, Ellie looked around. The combination of artwork complemented each other very well. In fact, this gallery seemed to have many similar features to her own. Tears welled. She wanted to finish her vacation with her daughter, and then go home—back where she belonged.
“Here you are. Wolf is on vacation, but he should return in a few weeks.”
Ellie checked to make sure his email was on the card. “Thanks.”
By the time she returned to the hotel, she decided to spend some time reflecting on the many aspects of her life. It was time for her to figure out her next move—with Charlotte, with Hilton, and with Vic.
* * *
By the time she awoke from her unintentional nap, it was around seven p.m., and she was starving. Not wanting to go out in the cold, she went down to the bar to grab a bite and to have a drink. God, did she need a drink after being with Vic today, or what? During the last five years, she’d maintained a high anger level toward him. He’d not been there for Charlotte so many times that she blamed anything that pissed her off on Vic. Unfair, for sure, but she had to take it out on someone.
It didn’t help her mood that this stalker seemed to be everywhere—both in Virginia as well as in Montana. Ellie had to conclude that Wendy must have mentioned where she was going. Or would Hilton have said something? He knew she was visiting Charlotte, while Brian did not, and Wendy knew all too well not to spill the beans to him.
Crap. Had her friend said something to Cal during one of their classes? There was only one way to find out: call Wendy and ask her.
Ellie slipped onto one of the barstools and grabbed a menu. Fried this, fried that. Yuk.
“What can I get you?” the female bartender asked.
She had to eat. “I’ll have the fried pickles and fried chicken tenders. And I’ll have a vodka tonic.”
“You got it.”
Ellie located her phone and called Wendy. She wouldn’t be teaching tonight.
“Hey, there,” Wendy answered with a ton of enthusiasm. “How’s Montana?”
She explained how freaked out Charlotte had been when Ellie explained about the odd events. “She insisted I hire Vic to find this person, so now I’m in Rock Hard.”
Wendy whistled. “Wow. How’s that going?”
“Let’s just say I’m sitting at the hotel bar and I’ve ordered a vodka tonic.”
“That bad, huh?”
“I think Vic might be interested in me, and I can’t handle that. He was so nice, which means he has an ulterior motive.”
“Hey. Don’t be so cynical. Nice is good.”
“I guess. The bad thing was that I got another email during lunch, and I kind of freaked.”
The bartender placed her vodka tonic on the counter in front of her. Ellie probably should wait until after she had some food in her stomach, but she wanted to get a buzz, hoping it would erase the jitters.
“What did it say?” The worry in Wendy’s voice brought her back to the present.
Ellie sipped her drink. Within seconds, the chilled alcohol hit her bloodstream. She told Wendy what the message said. “Vic has someone in D.C. who might be able to help, but you’ll never guess who that someone is.” Wendy had known Amy when Ellie was still married.
“Who?”
“Amy.”
“Amy Sanchez?”
“I don’t know for sure. Vic didn’t tell me her last name.”
“I know Amy is doing freelance work in computers.”
Damn. “Then it’s probably her.” Ellie polished off half the drink in two large gulps.
“Tell me the truth. How does he look?”
Wendy always could spot a lie. “Good.” Ellie finished her drink. “He’s thinner, but the scars from the fire are kind of sexy in a weird sort of way. He has a bit of a tan that goes well with his dark hair and mocha eyes.” She inwardly groaned.
“Mocha, huh?”
“Slip of the tongue.”
“Sure. Does Vic have any theories about who might be after you?”
“No, which was why I called you. Did you mention to the class where I was?”
“Hell, no. I figured it might be one of them.”
The bartender placed a second vodka tonic in front of her, along with her not-so-healthy dinner. Ellie gave her a thin smile and swiveled on the seat to place an elbow on the bar. “Darn. I thought perhaps Cal was trying to catch my attention.”
“By slashing your tires?”
Ellie shook her head. Didn’t matter Wendy couldn’t see her. “I think that had nothing to do with anything. Just bad luck.”
A bell sounded in the background. “Hey, someone just came in,” Wendy said. “I gotta go. Keep in touch, sweetie.”
“Will do.”
For the few minutes she was speaking with her good friend, the world seemed a better place. Now Ellie was alone again. The rich aroma of the food finally pierced her brain, and Ellie popped a chicken tender in her mouth. Mmm. She was pleasantly surprised at the burst of flavor. She alternated between her drink and the fried food until she finished the whole plate. When she returned to Virginia, she’d have to hit the gym for sure.
“Buy you another drink?” said a deep male voice.
Ellie spun back around and blinked. A good looking man in his mid-thirties, wearing a charcoal gray suit, but no tie, slid onto the stool next to her. He waved to the bartender. “Michelob please, and whatever the lady is having.”
Ellie was so taken aback that she failed to object. He splayed his left hand on the bar and the gleaming wedding band shone in the light. She relaxed. He wasn’t hitting on her—or so she hoped. He was probably just looking for someone to talk to.
“I’m Tom. Tom Travers, from Seattle.”
“Ellie Hart, from Virginia.”
“Hi, Ellie from Virginia. What brings you here?”
She wasn’t sure she should answer, but there didn’t seem to be any harm. Another drink appeared in front of her. “I’m visiting my daughter. You?” While her daughter wasn’t in Rock Hard, Ellie didn’t need to give him too many details.
“I sell energy-efficient windows
. This is part of my territory.”
Ellie relaxed. He was a salesman. A safe person. “Do your travels take you away from home a lot?”
He tipped back his beer. “Too much, but I have three kids to put through college. I have to work hard.”
“I hear ya. I run an art gallery and it’s non-stop work.”
His lips pressed together appearing impressed. “What does your husband do?”
She’d heard that line before, but Tom seemed on the up and up. “I’m divorced.”
He smiled.
* * *
Amy finally called around nine, and Vic picked up right away. “Got something for me?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t make any sense.”
“Tell me.”
“I’m sending the video clip now.”
Vic clicked on his mail tab. “Got it. Give me a sec to look.” What he saw was a young woman approach a computer terminal, take out a piece of paper, and type something on the computer. The camera was too far away to see what she wrote. Then it cut off.
“Not what you expected, huh?” Amy asked.
“This makes no sense. Are you sure this is the terminal?”
“Positive.”
“You get a name?” He wasn’t sure how she could, but he had to ask.
“I’m good, but not that good.” Amy laughed.
“Thanks. I owe you.”
As soon as he disconnected the call, he wanted to tell El his findings. He dialed her number, but her cell went to voicemail. Damn. She’d want to know that her stalker might be a woman. Wendy perhaps? He hadn’t seen El’s best friend in years, but it was possible the person El most trusted was out to drive her crazy.
When Amy had called, he’d been about to head home. Since the Park Hotel was on his way, Vic jumped in his SUV, drove the two miles down the main thoroughfare, and parked a half block away from the hotel entrance.
Inside, the lobby was cozy, especially since they had the fireplace lit. Two high-backed chairs faced the fire, looking romantic. A band tightened around his chest. He missed El. Missed her laughter, her gentle fingers, and her loving mouth.
Stop it.
Why did he keep torturing himself? She’d made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him. It didn’t seem to matter that he’d changed. The best he could do now was to find the man after her.
Vic stepped up to the woman at the counter. “Can you tell me what room Eleanor Hart is in?”
“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t give out that information. I can call her room and see if she will give me permission to tell you. May I have your name?”
“Vic Hart.”
“Oh. Is she your wife?”
Vic didn’t lie. “My ex-wife.”
The woman’s lips thinned. From the sadness emanating from her, she might be a divorcee herself. She held up a finger and dialed. After ten seconds, she hung up. “Ms. Hart isn’t answering.”
“Thanks.”
“Would you like to leave a voice message?”
“Tell her to call me.”
“I will.”
Where could she be? Taking a shower? He immediately squashed the image of her naked and delved into the logical part of his brain. He doubted El would venture out at night.
As long as he was here, he might as well check the bar, in case she wanted a nightcap, though when they were married, El rarely drank. Right before he entered the dark bar area, her lilting laugh reached him. Damn. Vic strode in and had no problem spotting her despite the dimly lit room. What he was having a hard time with was that El was smiling at a man in a charcoal gray suit. Vic clenched his fists and stalked toward her. Yes, she had every right to talk with whomever she wanted, but she couldn’t possibly know this person. What was she doing?
“El?”
The man in the suit faced him. He was a decent-looking guy who had to be at least ten years younger than El. Shit. This guy was suave, where Vic was not.
“Vic? What are you do-oing here?”
Holy shit. El was drunk, and he didn’t like it one bit. “I have some news for you.”
“Good news or bad news?” She giggled then directed her gaze to the man in the suit.
Vic gently placed a hand on her arm. “Come on. Let me walk you to your room.”
The man stiffened. “Ellie? You don’t have to go with him if you don’t want to.”
She waved a hand. “It’s okay. I know him.” When she slid off the stool, her knees buckled, but Vic was able to hold her up. Jesus. What had happened? Had she received another message?
He wrapped an arm around her waist. “What room are you in?”
“Three twenty-two.” She looked up at him. “I think.”
God. Vic dropped a twenty on the bar, slung her purse over her shoulder, and led her out. Once he loaded her in the elevator and pushed the button, she stepped close and placed her cheek against his chest. His ex-wife never would have leaned against him unless she’d had too much to drink. He inhaled her flowery scent and his cock stiffened. Damn. She hadn’t changed her perfume since they’d divorced. Every time he saw a gardenia, he thought of her. Her hand clutched his jacket.
“You smell good,” she mumbled, her lips against his chest.
Stay strong.
“We’re almost there. Put one foot in front of the other.” El staggered and he tightened his hold. “Easy.”
Vic slipped the purse from over her shoulder and located the keycard. Once he swiped it, and the light turned green, he led her in. The room had a queen-sized bed, a small table with two chairs, a dresser, and a small flat screen TV. He set her purse on the table and walked her to the bed.
El dropped down on the edge, her eyes glassy. “I think I might have had too much to drink.”
That was an understatement. He wanted to ask her why she saw fit to get drunk, but that would only anger her. “Could be.”
She kicked off her shoes, one at a time, like she used to do, and the second one went sailing and hit the chair leg. She giggled and fell back on the bed. Oh, boy. It was time to take over.
“Let me help you.” Vic sat her up and slipped off her sweater.
“You trying to get me naked?” When she looked up at him and grinned, his heart nearly stopped.
Chapter Four
Vic looked good—strong, sexy, and so fucking exciting. If only Ellie could stay awake long enough, she might chance a quick taste. That would be good. He’d always been the best kisser.
She hiccupped. Well, that wasn’t sexy. The alcohol was making her light-headed and was cutting through all of her filters.
Her inner self warred. Most likely she’d be back in Virginia in a week, so what harm could come if they had a quick romp? Vic always was good in bed. She debated for a few seconds about what she should do and couldn’t come up with one good reason why she shouldn’t attack his body.
“You have any pajamas?” He glanced around as if she’d have tossed them on the chair or something.
Test him. “Pajamas? I sleep naked.” She quickly closed her eyes to prevent him from detecting the lie. Vic always said the eyes held the truth.
“Since when?”
Damn him. Ellie looked up and smiled. “Since tonight.” She giggled then slapped a hand over her mouth.
“All right. We’ll play it your way.” He leaned over, unsnapped and unzipped her pants then slid them off. Then he lifted her pullover over her head, treating her like she was ten.
Ellie slapped his hands away. “I can do the rest.” When she reached around to undo her bra, Vic turned his back. So much for seduction. After fumbling to get the damn thing undone, she gave up and just lifted it up and over her tits. Then she ripped it over her head and tossed her bra on the floor, hoping to get at least a smile out of him, but Vic could act stoic with the best of them. Ellie slipped under the covers. “It’s safe to look now.”
He turned around, picked up her bra, folded it, and placed it on top of the dresser. He said nothing as he sat in the chair opposite the be
d. “Go to sleep.”
Wha-at? This wasn’t how she’d pictured it. And why was he so far away? Shouldn’t he be trying to crawl into bed with her? “Why are you here anyway?”
“I learned a few things, but I’ll tell you in the morning.” He dragged over the other chair and propped his feet on it.
“What was that?” She recalled he’d asked Amy to do something, but she couldn’t remember what it was.
“You won’t remember if I tell you now. Things will be clearer in the morning.”
He was probably right. She waited a beat, expecting him to leave, but he crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. “You’re staying?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He opened his eyes and blew out a breath. “For starters, I don’t trust the man at the bar not to come up here. Secondly, I don’t trust you won’t go down stairs and cause more trouble.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I wouldn’t do that.” Or would I?
“Sleep.”
“What if I’m not ready to sleep?”
Vic had been her husband. There was nothing wrong with having a bit of sex to make this trip worthwhile, right? Sure, she might have had too much to drink, and her brain was a bit fizzed—or was it fuzzed?—but having those hands on her body again would be so nice. They were two adults. Consensual sex was fine, just as long as he didn’t expect anything the next day.
“Try,” he answered sounding amused.
Well, fine. Be that way. There was more than one way to skin the proverbial cat. She sat up and let the cover drop to her waist. Vic stared at her nipples and they hardened under his glare. She waited for him to do something, but he didn’t move. He wanted her, didn’t he?
Fuck. Maybe he didn’t. She was old and fat. “Vic?”
He stood and walked over to the bed, his gaze now on her face. Ellie’s heart slammed hard against her ribs as he leaned over and turned off the light. “We’ll talk in the morning.”
Talk? She didn’t want to talk. “Why are you doing this, Vic?”
From his heavy footsteps, he was returning to his chair. When he didn’t answer, her heart hardened. Well, damn.