by Lori Foster
Celia glared at him as if he was insane. “You want to break into Jacobs’s house? Alec, that’s the dumbest damn thing you’ve ever said!” She grabbed his arm when he gave her an impatient look and continued to pace. Her hold stopped him. “Everything is already in place! What you’re proposing would be far more dangerous and take a whole lot longer. I want Hannah out of there now, tonight if I can manage it.”
Alec grabbed her, his hands tight around her upper arms, and he shook her. Shocked, Celia did no more than hang in his grip. He didn’t hurt her, but he looked haunted as he leaned close and growled ferociously, “I don’t want to see you hurt, damn it!” He shook her again, a revelation to Celia. “I won’t see you hurt.”
Celia slowly braced her hands against him. “Alec, I’m a grown woman, responsible for myself.” She searched his gaze, seeing so much for the first time. “If I choose to go there, if I choose to take a risk—a very minor risk, Alec—well, then, that’s on me, not you. Do you understand me?”
He carefully lowered her feet back to the floor and released her. He took two steps back and he was breathing hard. “Of course I understand you. I’m not simple.”
Celia watched him struggle for his famous control. She didn’t know quite what else to say, but she knew now that if anything happened to her, he’d blame himself.
She couldn’t let that happen. Big, strong, tough Alec had been hurt more than enough already. She wouldn’t contribute to his wounds.
Rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, not looking at her, he said, “This could easily backfire on you.”
“No. I’ll be careful.” She spoke softly, convincingly. “But either way, you’re not responsible for the decisions I make.”
He turned his back on her and that was all it took. Celia hugged him tight from behind. “Alec, I know you blame yourself for what happened to Marissa.”
She felt his snort, as if in denial, but he said nothing.
“She was the same age as you, Alec, not a child you were supposed to take care of.”
“She was my wife.”
“And she was a mixed-up young lady who didn’t know what she wanted or where to find it. She didn’t ask you for help, and would have refused it in any case. You couldn’t have done any more for her than you did.”
“If I hadn’t walked away from her that day—”
Celia interrupted with, “If I hadn’t gotten involved with Raymond…?” She let the sentence dangle, showing him how useless it was to try to relive the past. “We’re human and we make mistakes. Sometimes we’re ruled by emotions, by our pride. Even the almighty Alec Sharpe has to deal with regret, but you can’t let it change you forever.”
He sighed, tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. Celia could feel his frustration and indecision. She tightened her hold on him and kissed his shoulder. “I’m going tonight, Alec. And I know you’ll be there, close if I need you. But if the impossible happens and things don’t work out as I planned, then I won’t have you blaming yourself. Now promise me.”
He twisted around to face her, his gaze disturbingly intent, his expression enigmatic. “I’ll promise you this. I’ll be outside, watching and waiting. And if I hear so much as a peep that alarms me, if I see one shadow that worries me, or I have one mistrustful intuition, I’m ending it.”
Celia supposed that was the best she could get from a man like Alec. He’d worry until it was over, and there was nothing she could do about it. She’d just have to be extra careful to survive unscathed, to prove she could and would handle herself with intelligence and discretion.
She stared back at him and nodded. “All right, Alec.”
He tipped up her chin. “And lady, when this is over, it’s over. Everything. Because I can’t take it anymore.”
Including their relationship? She didn’t want to, but again she agreed with a small nod. Then, before she had a chance to get emotional again, she went to his phone to call a cab. She only had a few hours left before she needed to be at the party. Alec couldn’t take the risk of driving her back to her hotel, not when there was the possibility he might be seen.
Evidently he wouldn’t take the risk of caring for her either. After tonight, she’d have met her goals of saving Hannah Barrington. But with her unwavering determination, she’d driven Alec nuts, and lost out on any hope of having his love.
It was hard to feel happy over her success, when she’d just lost everything she’d ever really wanted.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“HANNAH, I’D LIKE to talk to you.”
Hannah barely spared her a glance. “No, leave me alone.”
Celia caught her arm as the girl started to stride away. It was the very first chance Celia had of speaking with her. Jacobs and Giles had at first loomed at Celia’s side continually, introducing her to several gentlemen and only a few ladies. Giles had tried to laugh off the incident at the warehouse, but his tension was plain to see, and the damage was still being assessed. He apologized gallantly to Celia for his rough treatment of her, explaining that his equipment meant the world to him—without it, he couldn’t serve lovely women like herself. Celia had almost snorted at that inane apology.
She had no idea how Alec had started the fire, or what he’d burned. But she could tell by the stilted conversation in both Giles and Jacobs, the incident had put them both on edge. They seemed more alert, more cautious.
Then a waiter had come to whisper to Jacobs and he’d gone to take care of some business. Celia didn’t care what the business was as long as Giles went with him.
He didn’t, but he did dismiss himself a few minutes later with the promise he’d return to her quickly. Hannah had steered clear of them all, hovering around the wet bar set up in a far corner, grinning and laughing, but Celia saw new circles under her eyes, and a wariness that went bone-deep.
“If you avoid me like this, it’ll cause suspicion.”
Hannah’s gaze widened. Then with a furtive look around, she allowed Celia to tug her over to a small settee situated in a corner of the room. Celia could see all the entrances, everyone coming and going, and there was no way anyone could sneak up on her or overhear her conversation with Hannah.
“Talk to me, Hannah. Please.”
Hannah closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Chandelier lights glinted in her gold-and-diamond earrings and reflected off the colorful sequins of her skimpy gown. If Celia hadn’t been so intent on other matters, she’d have felt like a total frump in the same black pantsuit. In an effort to at least give the illusion of a different outfit, she’d added a colorful red, lemon and black scarf to her hair, and brightly colored earrings that matched. She figured any woman out to attract the attention of producers would make the effort to present her best appearance. Giles had approved.
“There’s nothing to talk about, Celia. I can’t go home.”
“Can’t, or won’t?”
“Both. Please, understand. You’re wasting your time.”
“Your mother doesn’t think so, Hannah. Your whole family is devastated that they haven’t heard from you, that you’re avoiding them. Your mother even thinks you’ve been brainwashed.” Celia smiled sadly. “Or that you’re being blackmailed.”
An almost desperate laugh escaped Hannah. “My mother was always overdramatizing things.”
Celia took her hand and held it. The girl’s fingers were cold and stiff. Very gently, Celia asked, “Is she dramatizing now, Hannah?”
Hannah bit her lip and large tears gathered in her eyes. She stared at her lap, at first not answering. Then with a tiny shake of her head, she whispered, “No.”
“Ah.” Celia felt elated over the small concession, elated and frantic to find out all she could while Hannah was willing to talk. “How is Jacobs keeping you here?”
Hannah turned to look at her. “I’ve been so stupid.” Her smile was filled with self-loathing. “At first, Marc seemed so nice. He helped me out, got me a few photo shoots. I never saw the ads, but I did get the money. He ad
vanced it to me for an apartment, for the new clothes I needed to compete for other photo opportunities. But then, all of a sudden I owed him back more than I could make. The apartment is extravagant, but I signed a lease because Jacobs told me I could eventually afford it. It’s owned by another friend of his.”
Celia could easily see the circle growing, could envision how a woman would be trapped in Jacobs’s web of friends.
“He…he offered me new ways to make more money. And I…I thought it was just a paid escort service.” She stared at Celia, desperate. “That’s what he told me it was.”
Hannah covered her mouth and struggled to keep from crying. Celia quickly patted her back, murmuring to her. “It’s all right. I understand. Take a few deep breaths. You have to get control, Hannah. If Jacobs or Giles sees you crying, they’ll wonder what we’re talking about. Either of them could come back any minute.”
“I’m sorry.” She groped for the tissue Celia handed to her and dabbed at her eyes. “I almost never cry anymore. There’s no point to it. But things just went so wrong so fast—”
“I know.” Still trying to soothe Hannah with a gentle pat to her shoulder, Celia asked, “The escort service was a ruse?”
Again Hannah nodded. “I met a man, and we…I thought we hit it off. He was kind and gentle, and he seemed so sincere. I was so lonely then, and scared and everything was confused.” She bit her lip and her cheeks warmed. “We slept together that very first night. He told me I was beautiful and that he couldn’t stop wanting to touch me. For the first time in months, things felt right.”
Keeping a careful watch out for Jacobs or Giles, and at the same time smiling at the milling crowd so no one would suspect them, Celia asked, “But it wasn’t?”
Dully, as if she hardly cared anymore, Hannah said, “When I woke up the next morning, he was gone and there was money beside my bed. He’d…he’d paid me. Like a prostitute.” She drew a deep breath and continued. “I was embarrassed and hurt, and I wanted to give the money back to him, but I didn’t know where he lived or what his phone number was. Marc just laughed at me when I told him about it, saying I didn’t have any reason to be upset, that this would be the perfect way for me to offset my costs and to begin paying him back. I wanted to just walk away. I thought my mother would welcome me back, even though I’d been so awful when I left. But that’s when he told me about the photos he had.” She looked at Celia, her face filled with desperation. “My family would be so embarrassed, and it’d be all my fault.”
Celia felt herself shaking from head to toe. Her suspicions had been correct, but still she was shocked. Prostitution. And blackmail. A deep rage filled her when she thought of Jacobs ruthlessly plotting against such a sweet young woman. Celia griped Hannah’s hand. “He’s an animal, a bastard. But we can take care of that now, Hannah.”
“No. My mother would die if those pictures were made public. I thought they were for legitimate magazine ads, but Blair knows how to doctor them so they look even worse than they really did. He showed me a couple, and they were so…so ugly. No, I could never do that to my family.”
Celia reached into her purse and withdrew a slip of paper. On it, she wrote the number Alec had made her memorize, the one that reached his cell phone. She stuffed it into Hannah’s hand. “I’m going to try to end all this tonight, Hannah. With any luck, Jacobs and Giles will both be going to jail, along with anyone else who works with them. But if you get into any trouble, if you need help at all, I want you to call that number. I promise if you do, everything will be all right.”
Hannah looked up, and her wide-eyed expression caused Celia to do the same. She saw both Jacobs and Giles headed toward them and she stood to greet them, smiling as she saw Hannah stuff the small slip of paper into the top of her dress, between her breasts.
“I wondered where you’d both gotten to! I wanted to go looking for you, but Hannah told me we should just wait. She’s been very nice in keeping me entertained.”
Jacobs smiled at Hannah and pulled her close, his hand resting possessively on her hip. “Well, I have a treat for you, Celia.”
With a suitably anxious look, Celia asked, “A treat?”
Giles rubbed his hands. “We’re going to go meet a producer. I showed him some of your photos and he’s very impressed. He wants to meet you tonight.”
“Now?” Celia’s mind squirrelled around for some way to postpone the meeting, knowing Alec would be outraged. She caught a glimpse of Hannah, who looked appalled by the change in plans, which confirmed in Celia’s mind that the threat now was real. But then Giles took her hand and started to lead her away.
“Come, I’ll tell you all about it. But we have to hurry.”
She glanced back at her purse on the settee, where the pen transmitter was. Unfortunately, when she’d stood, the cushion moved and the purse had dumped. “Oh no, my purse.”
Jacobs looked down, scooped up several things and stuffed them back inside. “Here you go. Now hurry along.”
Celia, still being tugged along by Giles, saw that the pen was missing. “Wait! My pen—”
“I have plenty of pens, Celia. Don’t give it another thought.”
“But…it has sentimental value to me.”
“I’ll call Marc later and have him look for it.”
“But…”
“Celia, we need to go. Don’t worry. Marc and Hannah will be joining us.”
She had no idea how to argue beyond that. With one last wistful look at the settee, she gave up and forced a smile for Giles. There really wasn’t anything else she could do. Trying to sound enthusiastic, she asked, “A producer, you say?” but in her mind, she was thinking that getting through this new meeting would likely be a piece of cake, compared to how Alec would react when he caught up to her.
“ARE YOU SURE we’re at the right place?” No matter how she tried, Celia couldn’t begin to look relaxed. The luxurious resort cabin Blair Giles took her to was remote and it didn’t appear to have had a single soul in residence for some time. At least, not a permanent resident. The cottage seemed more like a carefully selected site for doing business. The kind of business is what bothered Celia.
While Giles made himself at home, turning on a minimum of lights and mixing drinks at the small bar, she looked around. The cathedral ceiling was tinted glass, allowing the many stars and muted moonlight to shine through. She could just see the edges of a few branches from tall trees brushing over the roof. The air was heavy with silence, broken only by the clink of ice being dropped into glasses.
“Relax, Celia. He’ll be here. Later.”
She gulped hard, trying to find a drop of spit in her very dry mouth. “Later?”
Giles grinned widely at her and his eyes were lit like green fire. For the first time, she noticed that he had a gold tooth toward the back of his mouth. She crossed her arms over her bare midriff as he approached.
“Here, drink this. It’ll help to calm you.”
There was no way she was putting a single sip of alcohol into her system. She needed to be totally clearheaded to deal with this new situation. After setting the glass aside—which made Giles frown—she said, “Blair, I thought we were meeting some other people here. I had no idea you were planning this…this…” She gestured with her hand, indicating the intimate and isolated atmosphere of the cottage.
“This romantic setting?” he supplied, one brow raised, his voice smooth and seductive. “I’m sorry, Celia, but I was desperate to get you alone. And I promise you, you’ll meet all the producers you could possibly need. I can already see what a success you’re going to be.”
He stepped closer and Celia stepped back. She was very afraid. “You mean, you made this up?” While she spoke, she looked around, trying to find some avenue of escape. Not a single hope presented itself. The furniture all looked heavy and masculine. A few statuettes were placed in the corners, and there were heavy ceramic ashtrays on the tables, along with tall deco lamps and a few books.
They were
on the ground floor, and a loft was overhead, but there didn’t appear to be any exits from there, just the bedroom.
She glanced back to see Giles watching her closely, his expression expectant. He wanted her to try something, she realized. He wanted her afraid and running, so he could chase her down. Instead, she looked directly at him, waiting for an answer.
His smile wavered slightly. “No, of course not. But our guests will come later. Much later.”
When the back of her knees hit the sofa, her eyes widened. “Later? But it’s almost midnight already.”
“Did you have other plans?” He slowly, carefully, took her hands in his, as if savoring the moment.
Celia remembered how this particular man reacted to a woman’s fear. By backing away from him, she’d added to his enjoyment of the moment. No more; she wouldn’t give him what he wanted, either physically or emotionally.
What would Alec do now? How would he react if he were here?
Trying to clear her mind, Celia forced a smile and abruptly sat down, curling close in the corner of the sofa. She stretched her arms out, at her leisure. The fingertips of her left hand touched the edge of the heavy ashtray, but she couldn’t get a good grip on it without being obvious.
Trying to look coy and stall for time, she said, “You really went to all this trouble just for me?”
Eyes narrowed, Giles suddenly reached down and jerked her to her feet. As if impassioned, he pulled her close and said against her mouth, “I want you so damn bad, I’d do just about anything to see it happen.” She twisted and his mouth landed on her cheek. “Believe me, I don’t usually react this way with the models. But you’re different, so lovely and innocent…”
“No!”
One of his hands held the back of her neck with painful force, keeping her from turning her face away from his mouth, while the other clutched at her bottom. He wasn’t much taller than her and when he yanked her close, her body came into vivid contact with his from knees to breasts. Her stomach jolted sickly, her skin crawled.