“Dillon…”
At the sound of his mother’s pleading voice, he saw that she’d put her glass of wine down on the buffet next to the dining-room table.
“It’s all right. I’ll go with him.”
“Mother, you don’t have to. This has gone on long enough. It’s time it stopped. I can protect you from him.” He gestured toward his pathetic excuse for a dad.
“I don’t want you two to fight over it.” She turned to Curtis. “I’ll go brush my teeth and we’ll go to tonight’s seminar.
“Mother, no.” He approached her. As he drew near, he saw pain in her eyes. Pain she tried to drown in wine.
“I don’t want you to fight. He’s your father, Dillon.”
Whether he liked it or not. He turned to glare at his dad, who met the look with triumph.
“I’ll wait for you right here, honey,” Curtis said.
“Mother,” Dillon tried once more. “At least think about it. You don’t have to keep doing this. You don’t have to stay with him. We can go somewhere else and start over. I can take care of you. I only have one more year of high school left. I can get a part-time job—”
“Dillon—” she stopped him “—don’t.”
“Mom.” How could he reach her? He didn’t know how much wine she’d had, but he was pretty sure that was what had her backing down.
She touched his cheek and smiled at him. “I married your father for a reason. He isn’t trying to go against you, Dillon.”
Yeah, right. “He beats you. It’s okay if you leave him.”
“She doesn’t want to leave me.”
Dillon turned and faced his dad, making sure he stood between him and his mom.
“I should make you come with us tonight,” his father said, calmer now that he had his wife under control again. “You’d learn what it takes to be worthy of this town. If I didn’t know you’d make a fool of us all, I would.”
More likely his father was afraid Dillon would make him look like a fool. And he was right. “Does that tattoo on your hip make you worthy?”
His father’s mouth hung open with shock.
“Yeah, I know all about that. Does Mom have one?” He looked at her.
When she lowered her head, he knew she did. Anger billowed up and consumed him. He faced his dad, ready to start a fight.
“You made her do it?” he demanded.
“Stay out of that, Dillon. You don’t know what you’re meddling in.”
“Doesn’t it matter that she didn’t want to?”
“It’s just a harmless tattoo, Dillon,” his mom said. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
With that, Curtis shot his wife an incensed look.
Dillon got his dad’s attention back by jabbing his finger against his chest. “If you hurt her at all, in any way—” lowering his hand, he moved closer, so he looked right into his dad’s eyes “—I’ll come after you.”
“Dillon,” his mother breathed, upset again.
Getting the response he desired from his father, Dillon backed off. No longer was he a boy who Curtis could push around. His son had grown into a man who could fight back.
* * *
“It was like someone turned a switch on me.” Gemma walked beside Lacy in the parking lot of the community center, cringing over the memory. “One minute he’s telling me someone is framing me, and the next I’m throwing myself at him. I’m a female version of Pepé Le Pew. Desperate. Easy.” Her grimace came out with an ugh sound.
“The pornographic version?”
Gemma shot her a look. “Is there one?”
Lacy laughed. “Not that I’m aware of. You could do better than a skunk if you made one yourself, darling.”
“This isn’t helping me.”
“Well, he isn’t staying with you anymore, so you don’t have to worry anymore.”
Because Jed was murdered. “Yeah, unless I’m thrown in jail for murder.”
“Samuel won’t let that happen.”
Samuel? Didn’t she mean Ford? How would Samuel stop her from being arrested? Before she could ask, Lacy led her into the community center. Samuel stood in the huge open space of the entry, greeting everyone with his usual suave sophistication. He was like a breath of fresh air. Dark-haired and handsome, a ready smile and an endless supply of uplifting words. No wonder all the women in town swooned whenever he appeared. Except for her. No, that was Ford’s area of expertise. He made her swoon without even trying.
Watching Samuel greet everyone who approached him, she couldn’t understand how anyone would think he was a threat. His goal was to help people, not hurt them, at least as far as she could see. Or was it what she wanted to see? Was she denying the rest? Like his concern for her. Was it concern or was it manipulation? She preferred concern. And why did she? Because she refused to give up the seminars.
Samuel saw her and Lacy and beamed. “Gemma!”
The crowd parted and he approached and opened his arms. She went into his embrace. He made it so easy.
With his hands still on her shoulders, he leaned back and looked her over with approval. “You look radiant.”
It must be all the sex she’d been having. “Thank you.”
“Lacy, I have to commend you for introducing her to our group. She makes a fine addition.”
A fine addition? Like a piece of an art collection? “I think an angel led me to you.” Whether he had ignoble motives or not.
He chuckled with the compliment. “I’m having a pool party next week at the Stillwater, on Saturday afternoon. Why don’t you plan to attend?”
Why did it sound as if he wasn’t asking? It was more of a demand.
“I’d love to.”
He turned to Lacy. “She no longer needs Ford’s protection, so why don’t you bring her?”
“Of course,” Lacy replied.
“Don’t you worry about Jed, Gemma. We’ll get to the bottom of that.”
Gemma was afraid her wariness was obvious. Did Samuel think he had that much influence on the law?
“My party is just what you need. It will be an enlightening affair.” He said the last with a playful light to his eyes. “Spa treatments. Pedicures. Massages. Anything you desire to fill yourself with the power of confidence and health. Consider it therapy. A follow-up to today’s topic.”
Today’s topic was overcoming negative relationships. She’d been looking forward to it all week.
“I can’t get enough of that.”
“Someday you will. Someday you’ll graduate beyond this level and grow to the next.”
“And what level is that?”
“One step at a time, dear Gemma. One step at a time.”
Gemma smiled and shared a glance with Lacy, who didn’t smile back. Didn’t she like what Samuel suggested? Did she know what his next step was?
“There is something I’d like to discuss with you, and the party will be a perfect time,” Samuel said.
“What would you like to discuss?”
“I can help you plan for your future here in Cold Plains, Gemma. I know of an investment opportunity that might interest you.”
She hadn’t thought about investing the money she’d gotten from her divorce. “I’m already interested.”
“A woman like you has to keep her finances in order. With my help, you’ll never have to work again.”
She wondered what he would gain from helping her. She didn’t care if she had to work, but if she invested Jed’s money, it would be like laundering it, cleansing it of his poison.
“Thank you for looking out for me, Samuel.” He was always doing that. He didn’t even know her very well and he always had her best interests in mind. At least, it seemed that way
. “I can’t wait for your party.”
“I look forward to seeing you, then.” With that, he returned to his adoring throng. He was a celebrity. Cold Plains had a star and it was Samuel Grayson.
CHAPTER 6
Ford would have left a half hour ago if he hadn’t seen Gemma among the crowd at the Stillwater Inn. Samuel was throwing an elaborate party at his latest haunt. Towering fountains. A crystalline pool. Servants with trays of tonic water. Masseuses. Pedicurists at the feet of the wealthy. Fake laughter completed the orgy. It didn’t seem to matter that a man had been murdered in one of the inn’s rooms. Unless something about that was significant. Why had Samuel chosen this venue for his event?
From his hiding spot behind a thick island of shrubs and blooming flowers, Ford watched a woman lean back on her lawn chair and arch her back as she poured a bottle of tonic water over her body. Did she think it would make her live forever?
Having watched Gemma talking to Samuel for a good forty-five minutes now, he had to stop himself from charging in there and dragging her out by her shiny dark hair. He hadn’t seen her since he left her house a week ago. Thoughts of her had weighed on him. He had to force himself to stay away from Cold Plains Coffee on the off chance he’d run into her. He’d been starved for just the sight of her. To see her here shot him through with disappointment. And something else he was reluctant to name.
The swelling on her nose was gone. The cuts on her face were faint scars and there were no more traces of the bruises. He couldn’t have prepared himself for her beauty.
What was Grayson saying to her? Whatever it was, she loved every word. She glowed. She smiled. She laughed. Had a week been long enough for him to get his tentacles into her? Was she yielding to his will?
Seeing her flash another one of her magnificent smiles at the man, Ford clenched his fists. Was she attracted to him? Grayson was handsome and adept at hiding his psychosis behind a magnetizing personality. People fell for him and his ideology. What would Ford do if Gemma became one of them? What would he do if Grayson wanted her to be more than another Devotee?
Kill him. He pictured his hand clasped at Grayson’s neck, choking the breath out of him. And then, just as quickly, he got hold of himself. He ran his fingers through his hair, hoping this damn party would end soon, or at least that Gemma would leave.
He endured Grayson handing Gemma a business card and her nodding agreement over whatever he said. He endured him kissing her cheek. And then, at last, the party began to thin. Everyone had already eaten the barbecued lamb and about thirty other dishes, all prepared with health in mind. Health and richness befitting a man with power and money. Befitting a town that demanded both from its citizens. Perfection.
Ford slipped away from the cluster of vegetation and headed for the front of the building, stopping before the doors where he wouldn’t miss Gemma. He didn’t want to admit why he felt so driven to have it out with her, only knew there was no stopping him. Watching her had worked him up into a lather. Dressed in an ocean-blue bikini and a matching sheer sarong, she was a vision for his hungry eyes. She’d left her hair down and her sunglasses made her look like a movie star. Just like Grayson.
That’s what ate him up the most. Just watching her stirred a roaring flame of desire in him, and yet she fitted into this crowd so well. She looked as if she belonged among them—the rich and flawless.
She and Lacy emerged from the inn. He should just turn around and leave. Something kept his feet still. His ire. His passion. Emotion he couldn’t control at the moment.
Lacy pointed him out. Gemma’s smile faded, though her face still glowed from her afternoon of fun and pampering and Grayson’s sinister ministrations. Nails freshly painted, skin bronzed from the sun, she was striking. Her trim, petite body didn’t have an ounce of fat on it.
“Ford.” Surprise marked her tone.
“Having a nice afternoon?”
She exchanged a glance with Lacy.
“I’ll wait for you in my car,” Lacy said.
“Okay.” Gemma turned back to him. “What are you doing here? Did something happen?” She looked around.
He wouldn’t reveal that he’d followed Bo here. “Are you getting personal invitations to Grayson’s events now?”
“It was a harmless pool party.”
“Yeah. Real harmless. Your ex-husband was murdered here and Grayson had the whole afternoon to work you over.”
“Work…” Her eyes flashed with anger. “He wasn’t working me over.”
“Why’d he give you a business card?”
“You were spying on me?”
“Does he want your money?”
That made her flinch a little. “He talked to me about an investment opportunity.”
“One I’m sure he’ll benefit from. Open your eyes, Gemma. He’s interested in more than your pretty face.” He hoped that was all.
“What’s the matter with you?”
“I saw the way you were with him. Are you going to let him give you a tattoo now?” He couldn’t contain himself, and worse, he didn’t understand the degree of his emotion. Why did seeing her enjoying the company of another man bother him so much? The answer taunted him.
It took her a moment to respond, during which she studied him incredulously. “What’s wrong?”
“Are you?”
“That’s ridiculous. Samuel doesn’t tattoo anyone. I’ve heard all the rumors and I don’t believe them. Why do you think Samuel would do that?”
“Who do you think arranged for your bracelet to be planted by Jed’s body?”
She scoffed. “That wasn’t Samuel.”
The way she said his name inflamed him further. An afternoon trapped in Samuel’s disingenuous web had already polluted her rationale. “I keep having to remind myself that you’re new here, so I’ll overlook your ignorance.”
“Why are you so mad?”
“Because you’re here, having a great time with that…killer.”
Her eyes widened. “Don’t you think that’s pushing it?”
“The rumors are true, Gemma. People do get his tattoos. His Devotees are brainwashed to follow him. And if he decides they aren’t perfect or if they disagree with him, they disappear. Sometimes they die.”
A long silence passed while she absorbed that. “Why do you care so much?”
Her question stopped him short. “Why do I care that you’re enchanted by a psychopath?”
“Samuel isn’t a psychopath.”
He should have expected her to deny Grayson was anything but a savior. “Stop saying his name.”
“You’re jealous.”
He ignored that. “It means nothing to you that the rumors are all true?”
She hesitated. “You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“What proof do you have?”
“Dead bodies keep piling up and Grayson is behind every single one of them. One way or another.”
“That’s not proof. That’s your opinion.”
“In this case, my opinion happens to be right. I don’t need proof. I’ve seen enough to know what he’s capable of.”
She considered him with new insight. “I’ll ask you again. Why do you care so much?”
About her. That’s what she was asking. He didn’t know if she believed him about the murders and she wasn’t going to tell him. She wanted to know if he cared. When the answer—yes—came into his mind, a trapped feeling quickly followed. He did care. He cared enough to let temptation overrule. Except, he could never forget how it felt to lose someone he loved, and he couldn’t risk that again.
“I care about anyone who falls prey to Samuel Grayson,” he said at last.
The inquiring look in her eyes clouded with di
sappointment. “I’m not your problem anymore, Ford. If I decide to see Samuel, I’ll see him.” She started walking toward Lacy’s Mercedes sedan.
Ford caught up to her. “Gemma. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
“That’s not your call to make.”
She was upset because he hadn’t told her he cared the way she hoped. Just when she was about to go around the back of the parallel-parked sedan, he grasped her arm and eased her to a stop.
“Gemma…” So much confusing emotion jumbled up his mind that he couldn’t organize it all. “He’s dangerous.”
“I don’t see it that way.”
Somehow he had to convince her. “You haven’t noticed anything strange? Nothing? No matter how small?”
With that she averted her head. She had noticed something.
“Promise me you won’t go near him anymore. No more seminars. No more glamorous parties.”
“I like the seminars. They help me.”
“I know they do.” Under false perceptions. “Can’t you find a therapist instead?”
“I don’t need therapy.”
The seminars were a form of therapy. “Then buy some self-help books. Just don’t go near Grayson anymore.”
She searched his eyes. “Why are you so jealous?”
“I’m not…” Even as he said it he knew it was a lie. “All right. I am. I would be jealous of any man who makes you laugh the way Grayson made you laugh today. But that has nothing to do with why I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
A smile reserved only for him dazzled her face. The light reached her eyes and he was captivated.
“Stop doing that,” he said.
That only rewarded him with an all-out, megawatt smile.
She was killing him.
Putting her hand on his chest and moving closer, she said huskily, “You know what I think?”
He was afraid to ask.
She slid her other hand onto his chest and pressed her body against his. “I think—” her hands ran up over his shoulders and he thought he’d die right then “—you’re afraid of what this means.”
“What’s that?”
Perfect Wyoming Complete Collection: Special Agent's Perfect Cover ; Rancher's Perfect Baby Rescue ; A Daughter's Perfect Secret ; Lawman's Perfect Surrender ; The Perfect Outsider ; Mercenary's Perfect Mission Page 61
