High-Stakes Playboy

by Cindy Dees

  He felt her presence before he saw her. All of a sudden, awareness skittered across the back of his neck. He whipped around, and there was Marley, silhouetted in the big hangar door, watching him, all soft, sexy curves and lush red lips and sassy blond curls. He smiled intimately at her, and she smiled shyly back. No way in hell was she that good an actress. No way.

  “You ready to head back to the motel?” he asked her.

  “Yes. Are you perchance offering a girl a ride?”

  “Perchance I am.”

  “Then I accept.” Her smile was more flirtatious this time, and his stomach clenched in a tight knot of pleasure at the idea of getting to spend more time with her. Man, he had it bad for this girl.

  Bad enough that she had blinded him to her true nature?

  Sobered, he installed her in the passenger seat of his truck and started down out of the mountains. The drive back to the motel was pretty, with winding roads that occasionally opened up into breathtaking vistas out across the coastal plain.

  They were approaching one such stretch of open road, going around a tight hairpin turn that a fast-moving SUV pulled up right on his tail. The road straightened out, the trees thinned and the mountainside dropped away precipitously beyond the low guard rail. The SUV pulled out to pass him, and Archer shook his head, touching his brakes. Crazy California driver.

  Without warning, the SUV swerved hard toward his truck. His quick reflexes were probably all that saved him and Marley from going over the cliff. He steered hard into the SUV with his truck, meeting the collision with momentum of his own. The truck and the SUV weighed close to the same amount, so although the crunch of metal on metal was sickening, the SUV didn’t succeed at driving him off the road.

  “Oh, my God!” Marley cried out. He ignored her, grimly concentrating on the crazy bastard in the other vehicle.

  The SUV swerved away and then slammed back into him again, but he was ready for it this time. He slammed on his brakes just as the SUV came toward him. The other vehicle shot ahead of his truck and nearly went over the guardrail itself as the driver’s hard swerve toward the precipice was no longer impeded by his truck.

  With a screech of tires as the vehicle fishtailed violently, the other driver managed to save the SUV, straighten out the vehicle and accelerate away from them. Archer tried to catch the license-plate number, but it was covered in a layer of mud and impossible to read as the car sped away.

  He briefly considered giving chase, but one glance at Marley’s white-faced horror was enough to dissuade him from pursuing his attacker. Slowing to a stop, he pulled over at the side of the road to have a look at the damage to his truck.

  The left headlight was smashed and the left front side panel dented. The bumper appeared a little bent, but it had done its job today and absorbed much of the initial impact.

  Marley joined him on the side of the road. He held his arms out silently, and she stepped into them, hugging his waist painfully tight as he wrapped her in his embrace. She was shaking like a leaf. He held her for a long time, offering wordless comfort in the form of his strong, solid body.

  Gradually, her trembling lessened, and finally it disappeared. At length, she mumbled against his chest, “I told you I’m jinxed. I wasn’t kidding.”

  Something dawned on him with the force of a revelation. If this was another one of the movie’s many “accidents,” Marley had been in his truck with him when it happened. No way could she have been the driver of that other vehicle who’d caused the incident. This was proof positive that she was not the saboteur. Impatience to get back to town and tell Steve rushed through him.

  He asked her gently, “Did you get a look at the driver?” God knew, he hadn’t. He’d been doing his damnedest not to get knocked off the side of the mountain and roll hundreds of feet to a fiery death.

  “He was wearing a baseball cap. And a dark sweater or sweatshirt pulled up around his ears.” She frowned, thinking hard. “I don’t think he was a real big guy. My impression was of someone fairly slight.”

  Wow. That was more than he’d hoped for. It still wasn’t enough to go on to find the bastard. But it was better than nothing.

  He pulled out his cell phone to report the incident to the police and then call Steve, but partway down this valley, they had no cell coverage. “Is your phone working, baby?”

  Marley fished hers out of a pocket to have a look. “Sorry. No signal.”

  He swore under his breath. “We need to get to a spot where our phones work ASAP.”

  He drove as quickly as was safe down the mountain and pulled into the parking lot of the motel about the same time Marley reported that she had a cell phone signal back. He called the police and an officer agreed to come out and take a report from him. While Archer waited for the cop to show up, he called his brother.

  “Steve. An SUV just tried to run Marley and me off the road up in the mountains.”

  “Where?”

  “That stretch of road in San Angelo Pass with the big drop-off.”

  Steve swore quietly. “Was it our saboteur? Did you get a look at him?”

  “More to the point, Marley was in the truck with me.”

  His brother fell silent at that bit of news.

  “I’m right. I’m tellin’ ya,” Archer added.

  “Did you get a look at the guy?”

  “Marley did. Slight in stature, wearing a sweatshirt and baseball cap.”

  “And you’re sure this sideswiping was intentional?”

  Archer answered firmly, “Absolutely. He hit me once, bounced, then came back for a second hit. I jammed on my brakes and he nearly went over the edge himself. Then he sped away.”

  “You call the cops yet?”

  “On their way.”

  “Okay. Make your report and then come up to my room.”

  A deputy from the county sheriff’s office showed up quickly and took both his and Marley’s statements. Archer gritted his teeth as the guy flirted with Marley, but she was too shaken up to notice as far as Archer could tell. Or maybe she was just that naive. Either way, he was pleased when she didn’t rise to the broad hints the cop dangled in front of her.

  Finally, the squad car pulled out of the parking lot. He would deal with getting his truck fixed later. Right now, he needed to get Marley to her room. She still looked totally freaked out.

  He led her upstairs, took her key card from her unsteady fingers and unlocked her door. As tempting as it was to strip her down and climb into bed with her, she was upset. And he was not heartless enough to take advantage of her emotionally fragile state.

  He did close the curtains and tuck her into her bed, though, insisting that she try to take a nap. She huddled under the covers while he sat on the edge of the bed beside her, stroking her silky soft hair. Slowly, she grew drowsy and relaxed, curled up against his hip. Her big blue eyes drifted closed. He sat there a few minutes more just watching her sleep. It was intimate and deeply soothing just being with her like this.

  Unbelievable. He’d never imagined any woman could have this kind of a domesticating effect on him. He was a combat pilot, for goodness’ sake. He wasn’t the type of man to be tamed by a woman. He chased skirts, laid groupie chicks and walked away without a regret or a backward glance.

  But Marley was different. With her, he dared to think of finding something...more. More personal. More lasting.

  As her breathing settled into a slow, steady rhythm of sleep, he eased away from her and moved silently to the door. He shut it quietly behind him and was shocked to realize he was smiling as he turned away from her room.

  Mentally shaking himself, he hurried upstairs to his brother’s room. Relief that he had proof Marley wasn’t the saboteur made his steps light and quick. He knocked on Steve’s door.

  “There you are. Come in, bro. I’ve got somet
hing to show you.” His brother’s voice was heavy. Laced with regret.

  “Did you find the bastard who tried to kill us?”

  “No. My private investigator just sent me something you need to see, though.”

  “What is it?”

  “Marley’s police file.”

  Chapter 7

  Archer poured himself another cup of coffee out of the pot in his brother’s office. Cripes, he felt like crap on a cracker. He’d barely slept a wink last night. Visions of the computer printout of a mile-long rap sheet had him tossing and turning for hours.

  Loitering. Vandalism. Breaking and entering. Petty theft. And then later...possession of controlled substances. Solicitation. Even extortion. How in the hell did a juvenile girl extort anything from anyone? And what had she extorted?

  He simply could not reconcile the profile of a classic troubled, angry kid with sweet, naive Marley. Was she schizophrenic or something? He couldn’t come up with any other explanation for the violent shift of personality. Even Steve had been confused by the rap sheet.

  “Why didn’t any of this stuff show up when I did a routine security check on her before she was hired? None of it is associated with her social security number.”

  The private investigator—on Steve’s speakerphone—had no answer.

  But Archer did. “She has a twin sister. What if all this stuff belongs to her?”

  “What if it doesn’t?”

  The investigator interrupted. “I specifically asked for the file on Marley Stringer. This is what I got.”

  When he got off the call, Steve had turned to him heavily. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fire her and escort her off the set right now.”

  Archer would never forget the knife twisting in his gut as he’d stared back at Steve. Finally, he’d confessed, “I’ve got nothing.”

  “I’m sorry, man.”

  “Can I be there when you do it?”

  Steve had frowned. “I usually prefer to fire people in private. Why do you ask?”

  “I need to see her face when you show her that rap sheet. I need the closure of seeing the real Marley Stringer just once.”

  “Yeah, I get that. I guess I can make an exception and let you sit in on this one.”

  Archer had spent the rest of the night trying to envision what he was going to see this morning when her true stripes were revealed, and he just couldn’t wrap his head around it. Hence the chain coffee drinking and continual pacing this morning.

  He heard the crew van pull up outside, its brakes squealing a little. He slugged down the remainder of the coffee and took a deep breath, steeling himself. He’d tried, really tried, to get pissed off at her. But the best he could manage was tired disappointment. He’d really thought they had something special going.

  “You ready for this?” Steve asked heavily from the doorway.

  “Hell, no. But let’s get it over with.”

  “You wanna go get her or should I?”

  “I’ll do it. I’m the one who wouldn’t let you fire her days ago.” Archer stepped out into the hangar and watched as various mechanics and pilots dispersed to their various tasks.

  He spied the bright blond curls across the hangar at the scheduling board and dread pounded through him. God, he hated this. If only he could work up a little hate toward her.

  She turned just then and spied him across the big, open space. Even from here, her smile was so dazzling it hurt to look at. How could such a hardened criminal be so unaware of her effect on men? Or maybe not so unaware. The extortion and solicitation charges danced through his awareness.

  Dammit.

  She sashayed over to him, her hips swinging with a promise of sex that made him hard in spite of his resolve to feel nothing for her, to have no reaction to her at all. Apparently, his man parts hadn’t gotten the memo yet.

  “Hey, handsome,” she murmured. “I’d throw my arms around you and kiss you if there weren’t so many people around.”

  His pulse leaped in spite of itself. Nope. Not over her by any stretch. “You got a minute?” he asked her.

  “Yes, of course. I’m flying with you later this morning, so I’m all yours until it’s time to check my camera.”

  Adrian was determined to keep the movie shoot on schedule in spite of yesterday’s disastrous explosion. Archer had heard a few rumbles in the breakfast line this morning that the film footage from yesterday had been dramatic enough that it might be usable in the film, after all.

  He turned silently and led the way to Steve’s office. She followed him inside and he closed the door. Her hands started to come up, reaching for him. He winced as he stepped back. She thought he’d brought her in here for a little hanky-panky. He felt like a schmuck for luring her to her unwitting doom like this.

  “Hi, Marley. Can I get you something to drink?” Steve asked quietly.

  She started and her hands dropped to her sides. She looked back and forth between Archer and his brother, frowning a little. “No. I’m fine. What’s this about?”

  “I need you to look at something,” Steve said without preamble. He pushed the sheaf of printed papers across his desk that had given Archer so much pain last night.

  She picked it up. Took one look at it. Sank into the chair in front of Steve’s desk. And said the last thing Archer ever expected to hear from her. “What has she done now?”

  The resignation in her voice had nothing whatsoever to do with guilt.

  “What do you mean?” Steve asked.

  Marley looked up at him, frowning.

  “Do you know what that is?” Archer tried.

  Her blue gaze swung to him. “Yes. It’s a rap sheet. A list of criminal charges and convictions.”

  Archer’s gut twisted painfully. “So you admit to being responsible for those crimes?”

  Guilt and shame flashed in her oh-so-open and readable face. “I tried to stop her. I really did. But she never did listen to me.”

  “Who’s she?” Steve asked.

  “My sister. Mina. This is her rap sheet.”

  Relief so intense it nearly drove him to his knees broke over him.

  Marley looked back and forth between the two of them in confusion that quickly turned to horror. “You thought this was me? You thought I was capable of doing all this stuff?”

  She stood up indignantly. “In the first place, my sister’s juvenile record is sealed. How did you get hold of it? And in the second place, how dare you think I could do all those things!”

  She spun to face Archer and he flinched a little in the face of her rage. “You of all people should know me well enough to know that I would never break the law or hurt people like Mina does. I am nothing like my sister!”

  He didn’t know what to say.

  He looked over at his brother in distress.

  Steve asked her gently, “When’s the last time you spoke with your sister?”

  Marley’s expression became pained. “Six years ago. When I left home to come to California.”

  “You’re not in touch at all?” Archer blurted.

  She shook her head. “She was furious at me for leaving her. She accused me of abandoning her. Told me she never wanted to see me again.”

  “And you’ve never reached out to her?” Archer asked.

  “I’ve tried to contact her. But she disappeared a few months after I left home. No one in the family has a phone number or even an email address for her.”

  Steve spoke heavily. “I’m sorry, Marley. It’s just that we’ve been having an inordinate number of accidents on the set and we’re checking out everybody in the crew more closely. When we ran into this rap sheet, we were concerned. I’m sorry for the invasion of your sister’s privacy.”

  Marley nodded stiffly at Steve’s ap
ology. But in his direction, she merely glared.

  Steve must have caught her acidic look because he added, “Archer’s been your most forceful advocate. He was the one who was convinced you couldn’t be involved with any of the accidents. He has been arguing stridently in your defense.”

  Although her scowl flickered momentarily, it didn’t go away entirely.

  Steve threw him an apologetic shrug. Hey, he had to give his brother props for trying to patch things up between them.

  “Can I go now?” Marley asked abruptly.

  “Yes. Of course. Thanks for your cooperation.”

  She spun and marched out of the office in high indignation, her tush twitching angrily. It was so sexy Archer had trouble standing upright as he watched it.

  “She’s a spitfire, all right,” Steve commented behind him.

  Archer winced. “I think our next several conversations are going to involve her throwing heavy objects at my head and me dodging while I apologize over and over.”

  Steve shook his head. “Hell hath no fury like a pissed-off woman.”

  “I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”

  “Scorned women just get revenge. Pissed-off women hurt anyone who gets in their way and get revenge. I know what I’m talking about, bro. Passionate women can get a hell of a mad on. It’s a take-the-bad-with-the-good thing. And right now, your woman’s hella pissed.”

  “Yeah. I noticed.”

  “Don’t let it sit. Work it out with her. The sooner, the better. Women like that just get more ticked off if you let them simmer.”

  “Thank you, Oprah.”

  “Screw you, Archer.”

  * * *

  One thing Marley hated about movie sets was the complete lack of privacy. There were people everywhere. She looked and looked for a quiet spot where she could have a good, hard cry, and it took her so long to find an equipment storage room to hide in that she thought she was going to explode by the time she finally let down her guard and the tears came.