He couldn’t stop looking at her mouth. It was red—he knew it wasn’t left over from the kiss they’d shared hours earlier, but it was all he could think of. “My brother invited me for dinner. He thought we needed some family time. Didn’t he bother to tell you?”
“I haven’t seen him since I left…your place.” Her stumble over the words was so slight that most people wouldn’t have noticed. She was remembering the kiss as well. Good.
Without another word she spun around and headed for the kitchen, her skirts swirling around her long legs. Caleb took a moment to appreciate it, as well as the sway of her hips and the bounce of her tangled auburn hair, and then he followed her, just in time to hear his brother’s voice on the answering machine, a pale copy of Stephen Henry’s rich, Shakespearian tones. Rachel hit the delete button before he could make out the message, but the expression on her face wasn’t happy.
“He’s been held up,” she said briskly. “Something to do with on-campus grief counseling. He’s very good at that, you know.”
“I expect he is.”
“So maybe you’d better take a rain check. There’s no telling when he’ll get back.” She made a move toward him, as if to shoo him out, but he wasn’t in the mood.
“Oh, I wouldn’t think of it, after you’ve gone to so much trouble.”
She was just managing to control her temper. “I haven’t gone to any trouble at all. David’s a vegetarian—he gets twigs and berries. You strike me as a meat and potatoes kind of guy.”
“I do have healthy appetites…What do you eat here? Hummingbird tongues?”
“He who dines only on hummingbird tongues is destined to starve to death?” she quoted back at him. “I eat meat. Just not when David’s around. He’s too sensitive.”
Caleb said nothing, moving over to the massive refrigerator and peering inside. “You’ve got jack-shit to eat in there. Doesn’t Sophie get any junk food?”
“Sophie’s none of your business,” she said, trying not to look uneasy and failing completely. “In fact, she has her own refrigerator in her room, where she can have all the garbage she wants. Fortunately she’s always been a wise child and she’ll eat anything interesting.”
He nodded, closing the barren refrigerator door. Not even a beer in sight. “Where is she?”
“None of your damned business.”
“It’s a logical question. Clearly she’s not here. You had this big seduction scene all set up so you had to have stashed her somewhere, which kind of surprises me. You strike me as an overprotective mother.”
“I’m not overprotective, I’m normal,” she shot back. “And Sophie’s spending the night at her best friend’s house, who happens to be the daughter of the chief of police.”
He nodded. “Very wise. And your police chief doesn’t have a hell of a lot to do now that the FBI are pushing their way around here.”
“How did you know that?”
“Because they already questioned me,” he said, a tossed off line, waiting to see her reaction. “Tell you what—let’s go out and find something to eat.”
“You’re kidding.”
“David isn’t going to be home till late, so your Mata Hari routine is wasted, unless you want to practice on me. I’m hungry, and by the looks of your refrigerator I’m guessing you’re hungry, too.”
She didn’t move. “You think I’d go to a restaurant with you and have dinner while half the town looks on and gossips? Fat chance.”
“Good point. Though I don’t know why you should let gossip bother you if you know it isn’t true. Or is it the faculty-wife thing, then? Caesar’s wife must be above reproach.”
“I have a sense of propriety.”
“Do you? You can’t imagine how much that disappoints me. I thought you were a wild child with a reckless streak who simply made the mistake of marrying the wrong man. Maybe you’re ordinary after all.”
“It’s not going to work. You can’t goad me into behaving badly just because you want to injure your brother.”
“I don’t want to injure David.”
She looked at him, startled, and he realized his tone of voice must have given something away. He smiled his most rakish smile. “And I don’t care whether you behave badly or not. I just want the dinner promised me and company while I eat. You look like you could do with a few calories yourself. Where’s your coat?”
“You’re really asking for it,” she said, and he realized she thought he was mocking her. She had the beautiful curves of a Botticelli Venus, but there was a faintly hungry air to her, one that he was more than willing to feed in any way she’d let him.
He looked at her, trying to size her up, and then he grinned. “I know your tipping point.”
“I doubt it.”
“Your daughter’s out for the night, your husband’s off counseling distraught young women, and your only responsibility is to see that your unwanted guest is fed. Get in the car.”
“Go to hell.”
“Not without you, babe. Get in the car and I’ll fulfill your deepest, most-secret desires…”
“This is getting tiresome—”
“And I won’t even touch you to do it.”
“Ha!” She kept edging away from him, but fortunately she was heading in the direction of the front door. Maybe she thought she was leading him there. If so, she was coming, too.
“You doubt me? I won’t lay a finger on you, Scout’s honor. You’re not my type.”
That bugged her, as he’d meant it to, but she tried to hide her reaction. “Were you ever a Boy Scout?” she said doubtfully.
“Drummed out in Cub Scouts. David made it to Eagle level.” Looking innocent was not a major part of his arsenal, but he did his best. “I double dog dare you.”
She was wavering. “Not a finger?”
He resisted his flippant response. “I won’t even breathe on you. Come on, Rachel. Live dangerously. This staid life doesn’t suit you.”
“It suits me very well,” she said far too unconvincingly.
“I tell you what. If I don’t bring you undeniable sensual pleasure, in absolute privacy without laying a hand on you, then I promise to leave town tomorrow and not come back.” He was lying, of course. He’d left things alone for far too long, but she wasn’t going to know that. As far as she knew his return was incidental and could be ended just as easily. “Now that’s an offer you can’t refuse.”
She stared at him for a long, thoughtful moment. “Let me get my purse.”
“You won’t need it.”
“How about shoes?”
“You won’t need those either.”
“And you’re not—” she stopped midsentence. Poor grumpy baby—David had done a number on her. She didn’t trust him, but she also didn’t believe she was any kind of real temptation. Maybe the time would come when he could demonstrate just how tempting she really was, but that time wasn’t tonight.
“I promise,” he said, finishing her sentence.
She blew out the candles she’d set out for her seduction scene, turned off the gas fire, grabbed a brightly colored ruana and faced him, Joan of Arc at the stake. “I’m ready.”
She said nothing when he opened the door of the rental Four Runner. She slid in, wrapping the shawl around her, and fastened her seat belt as he climbed into the driver’s side. It was a chilly night, and he turned the heat on full blast for her bare feet, then pulled away from the house.
He knew where Maggie Bannister lived, assuming she hadn’t moved in the last ten years, and people never moved in Silver Falls. He could swing by there, lure Sophie into the car, and drive the two of them, probably kicking and screaming, all the way to California or Texas or Montana, get them as far away from this town and the secrets it held before they could become snared.
But it would be hard as hell driving with two angry women beating at him, though he could probably count on Sophie to be on his side. And in fact, did he have any real reason to worry? They weren’t David’s type.
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No, he had some breathing room. Silver Falls College had any number of students who would fit the victim profile well before either of the two women who lived with David Middleton would.
To get them out of town would be a fail-safe, but probably more trouble than it was worth.
“What are you thinking about?”
He turned and looked at her. She looked a little smaller in the front seat of his car, her hair dark in the shadows, her eyes troubled and wary.
“I was thinking I might kidnap you and your daughter,” he said, waiting for her reaction.
“Fat chance. I spent fourteen years traveling on my own and with Sophie—people have a very hard time getting the drop on me.”
“Good to know,” he said. “So why did you trade being a nomad to this kind of life?”
“It was time. Sophie needed some stability, and she needed a father.”
“And you chose David?” He couldn’t keep the ridicule out of his voice.
But this time she didn’t rise to the bait. “I chose David. Where are we going?”
He was heading straight out of town, the streetlights getting fewer and farther between. “It’s a surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises.”
“I bet you do. You just got out of the habit of them.”
She didn’t deny it. That was one thing he liked about her—for all that she saw him as the enemy, she didn’t lie. It was a rare gift.
Now if he asked her if she liked their afternoon kiss she’d probably say no, but that was wishful thinking, not falsehood. She probably thought she was immune to him. Few women were when he put his full effort into it—it was both a curse and a gift. She’d probably prove more difficult than most. And yet he had no doubt he could do it, and would.
But he had something extra on his side, that small advantage that would sway the battle. He actually wanted her.
Sure, he wasn’t going to let anything bad to happen to her and her daughter. He didn’t want her the prey or even the unwitting accomplice of a madman. And he’d do anything he could to keep her safe, including scare her out of town if the need arose.
But on top of everything else, he wanted her. He glanced over at her feet—small, bare toes peeking out from under the colorful skirt. Her hands were holding the wrap around her shoulders. Good hands, long fingers, delicate but deft. He really wanted those hands on his body.
But most of all he wanted to be on top of her, skin to skin, thrusting inside her, looking into her eyes with no lies and no masks between them.
He shifted uncomfortably on the seat as he hit the interstate. Fantasies like that would only get him in trouble, distract him from his main goal. Rachel Middleton was a pawn in the middle, an admittedly delicious pawn, but a danger all the same. If David had even the faintest idea how much he wanted her then he’d have an unfair advantage over him. His undeniable attraction to Rachel was making him vulnerable, and he couldn’t afford to let that happen. Not if he was going to stop David.
Except that perhaps it was already too late. David had known exactly what he was doing when he invited him over to dinner. Throw him into close contact with his wife and watch the sparks fly. He couldn’t even begin to guess what was going on in his brother’s tortured mind, and part of him didn’t want to know. The possibilities were endless and horrifying.
At least it was highly unlikely that David was hurting anyone while he was in absentia. His needs had been very precise—like a snake who only needed to feed once a week.
But even as that iron control was coming undone, he was just as freakishly smart as he’d always been. He’d be too smart to risk making another move so soon. Unless he’d really lost it, and if that was the case, they were all fucked.
Rachel shifted in the seat as they sped down the interstate. Caleb wasn’t about to tell her where he was taking her—she’d asked enough times. All she could do was sit there and realize what a total idiot she’d been to say yes.
He had just about the worst reputation in Silver Falls, as far as she could tell, and everyone in Stephen Henry’s living room had tensed up when he walked in. Even her even-tempered husband had freaked out.
And suddenly women were dead. And she had willingly gotten in the car with him, without telling anyone where she was going.
She only had his word for it that David had invited him over for dinner—her husband hadn’t even mentioned it in his message. If Caleb Middleton was a serial killer he could strangle her, dump her, and…
But he’d been too careless. Anyone could have seen him walk up to the house, seen her leave with him, which was a whole other problem. If he was really trying to get away with murder, he was doing a rotten job of it, and she suspected Caleb Middleton was as efficient as her husband at getting things done. Maybe even better. David wouldn’t be able to get away with murder—he was much too transparent. She could read his feelings clearly, when he was disappointed in her, when he was feeling affectionate, his frustration over Sophie’s polite distance.
Caleb struck her as much more of a liar. A manipulator, who cheated to get what he wanted, who had some score to settle with his younger brother.
It didn’t make sense. In truth, Caleb was taller, better looking, more charismatic than his brother, whether she wanted to admit it or not. He was charming and manipulative—why would he envy David? David, whose very appeal was because he was safe, ordinary.
But then, nothing made sense. She remained silent when he pulled off the interstate, heading down a dark road. She’d never driven in this direction, away from Seattle rather than toward it, and she felt a little shiver slide down her backbone despite the warmth of the car.
“You know, I didn’t think to leave David a message. He might come home and worry.”
“I doubt it. He’ll assume you’ve gone somewhere with me.”
“I don’t know that that’s going to provide much peace of mind,” she said, her voice wry. “Anyway, I think I’d better call and tell him where we’re going. Did you bring your cell phone?”
“No service around here.” They sped down the deserted road.
“How do you know? You just got home.”
“I’ve already been down this road in the last few days.”
“Why?”
A faint smile twisted his mouth. “I had my reasons.”
Oh, shit, he’s going to kill me. She surreptitiously squeezed closer to the door. He wasn’t driving that fast, and if she moved quickly she could unfasten the seat belt and open the door at the same time, rolling out and heading into the woods at a dead run. He might not catch her, and at least it would give her a fighting chance.
He turned left, onto a dirt road, and there were no more houses anywhere around, just the road leading through the towering trees. She shifted, trying to look like she was just getting comfortable, and moved her left hand to the seat belt buckle, sliding her right hand up toward the door handle. He was looking straight ahead, paying no attention to her, and she knew she had to take her chance soon, before it was too late.
Maybe it was already too late. If she had anything left of her brain she should do something, scratching his name into her leg or something so that they could pin it on him when they found her body. There was a dip in the road up ahead, a deep pool of water lying there, and she knew he’d slow down and swerve to avoid it. That would be her chance. Her fingers played with the metal buckle, waiting, waiting.
He sped up, splashing through the puddle, moving deeper into the forest, and she knew she had to make her move, no matter how fast he was driving, no matter how slim a chance it was, and her fingers curved around the metal flange, ready to flip it up, when he slammed on the brakes, her seat belt released, and she went hurtling toward the glass windshield.
His arm shot out to catch her. Not just to catch her, but to slam her back against the seat, absolute fury in his face, and she thought faintly that this is what it’s like to die.
“Tell me, just how stupid are you?” he sai
d. “If you thought I was going to kill you then why the hell did you come with me? Why did you even open the door to me?”
She was squirming down in her seat, momentarily intimidated by his sheer rage. “I thought you were David when I opened the door.”
“Well, I’m not. And if you were afraid of me you should have told me to leave and called someone. But no, you’re too fucking polite and you’re going to get yourself killed because of it.”
“Are you going to kill me?”
He leaned back against his seat. “No, I am not going to kill you, no matter how annoying you are. I don’t kill women. I don’t kill men, either. I’m trying to…” He stopped midsentence.
“You’re trying to what?”
“Feed you,” he said, putting the car in gear again.
“That’s not what you were going to say.”
“And you have such great instincts when it comes to men that you willingly came out alone with someone you thought capable of murder. I’m not impressed.”
“Well, you didn’t tell me where you were taking me, and this is the back end of beyond. We haven’t seen another car for miles.”
“Don’t tempt me,” he grumbled. “This is a shortcut. I grew up around here, remember? I know all the back roads. I used to come out here with my girlfriends and park.”
“Girlfriends, plural? Like you brought a bunch out at the same time?” She was beginning to feel just the slightest bit foolish. He was right, she had been ridiculously naïve for blithely getting in the car with a man she didn’t trust, a man who might be suspected of murder. She wasn’t usually such an idiot.
“Smart-ass,” he said. “One at a time. I’m a serial monogamist, not a serial killer.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“Well, not about the monogamy, and I have to admit that part seems unlikely. I know you’re not a serial killer.”
“Then why were you ready to leap to your death to get away from me?”
“Overactive imagination,” she said, pausing. “I wouldn’t have gotten into the car with you if I didn’t trust you.”