Worth Any Price Page 4

  She wanted to press delete and send all the messages into oblivion before listening to them, but she couldn’t. She had to quickly run through each one, skipping to the next as soon as she recognized a voice. She was listening for an unfamiliar voice, the voice of the man who had her daughter. But in her heart she knew the man wouldn’t call. He would just do as he said, depending on what she did. It was a well-established pattern—he didn’t deviate. He made it a point not to. It was where all her fear came from—his horrible crimes of the past weeks, his despicable dirty mind and his evil, cold soul.

  She listened as familiar voices said, “Laura, I just can’t believe . . . ”; “Laura, are you out of your . . .”; “Laura, what the hell is . . . ”; “You fucking bitch . . . ”; “Laura, call me . . . .” Once Kayla was home, she would force herself to listen to each chastising message, it would be a form of punishment she would make herself endure. She deserved it. All the harsh words in the world she deserved and much, much more. But if she got Kayla back, she could deal with it. She could deal with her mother and her father, her brother and her friends. She could even deal with her ex. The sad thing was that he was Kayla’s father. When he did finally hear all that had happened, he still wouldn’t have any compassion or understanding for what she’d had to do or for what his daughter had been through. She knew without a doubt that he was too involved in his own little world to care about anything except his political career.

  She went through the pantry and mudroom to the garage entrance and pushed the button for the automatic garage door opener. Once in the car, she bemoaned the leather interior of her Lexus. Her hands were already sweaty and now so were her bare thighs. She longed for something cool and soft, something not quite so sticky. Even though the sun was on its way down, it was hot, unbelievably hot. Was that just her body working overtime? It was after all, only spring, the most beautiful season for this coastal city, a time of the year she loved.

  She thought of all the places she took Kayla in the spring: Orton Gardens; The Airlie Arts Festival; Greenfield Park where they rented a paddle boat; Hugh McCrae Park where they listened to wonderful concerts; the Arboretum on Oleander where they sniffed the orchids, and Kohl’s for strawberry cheesecake ice cream. A sob took her and she had to blink hard to keep the tears at bay so she could see to drive. She forced her mind away from thoughts of Kayla and how happy her life was just taking care of her and attending the obligatory family social events. She was nervous to the point of distraction as she drove down Masonboro Loop and made her way through the city to Market Street and to the north end of the city.

  She knew exactly where the bar was where she was supposed to “pick up” a complete stranger to take to bed. She’d passed it many times on her trips to Porter’s Neck and the nursing home there that she’d championed over the years. She pulled into the gravel parking lot on the side of the weather-beaten, ramshackle building and watched as people went in and out. She was early, so she pretended to touch up her makeup in the vanity mirror while admonishing her heart to slow down.

  It was indeed the kind of place where she knew she’d have a varied selection of men to choose from, but none quite her type. Not that she was a snob, but the men going in and out seemed more countrified than citified, most wearing jeans and work boots, some in construction clothes still wearing their tool belts on their hips. They must think that looks sexy or something, she thought. Surely Kel Vain, even in his Adidas running shorts and Nikes would be in the upper echelon here. There had been something about his bearing, or maybe it was the cut of his hair. As a detective he was probably more educated, more sophisticated, even more cautious and thoughtful than the people she was now watching. She was unaccountably thankful for the providence that had brought him to her this morning, and if her mind hadn’t been automatically reverting to Kayla every ten seconds, causing her heart to plummet and almost fail, she would have been intrigued by the man, who like a knight on a steed, was coming to her rescue.

  Gallant knight. Hmmm. His part was surely not going to be as gruesome as hers. Unless the man was gay or . . . a thought suddenly occurred to her—what if he was married! Oh, good God, what was she asking him to do? And if she were his wife, how would she feel about what he was doing “in the line of duty?” The irony hit her and she winced into the mirror—Undercover Man. You had to love having a sense of humor at a time like this, she said to herself as she opened the door and stepped out. It was the first time she’d had a hint of a smile since she’d discovered her daughter missing, and she felt guilty for it.

  Chapter Four

  She walked into the dimly lit bar and took a moment to let her eyes adjust before she scanned the room, trying to be unobtrusive. But she was too pretty a woman to go unnoticed, especially in a tavern like this. She slowly made her way to the bar. The tables scattered around the perimeter were filled with men and women laughing and talking. It was a noisy place, full of activity and camaraderie. Waitresses were bustling about with trays loaded with pitchers of beer, and groups of people were gathered around tables, overflowing them as they chatted and hoisted their mugs. Two bartenders were moving up and down the bar in perfect synchrony, emptying ashtrays, refilling popcorn bowls and replacing drinks. She noticed several patrons sitting at the crowded tables looking her up and down quite thoroughly. She was careful not to smile—it would not do to encourage anyone to approach her.

  She kept her sunglasses on and lowered her head as she made her way over to the bar. She knew she would be easily recognized downtown, but maybe not here, not this far north, away from the cultural centers, the waterfront and the river. Her long dark tresses had always been one of her most remarkable features, and with a wince, she bemoaned the fact that she hadn’t thought to wear a big floppy beach hat to minimize her chances of being recognized. But rarely did she wear it loose like this, so she felt somewhat safe.

  Idly, she lifted the bulk of it off her neck where it was sticking, one of the reasons she usually wore it off her face and neck. At the bar, she pulled out a stool and tried to lift herself onto it. She’d never really sat at a bar like this and was surprised that the stool was so high. It was not an easy feat for her to get her petite body up on the stool, she had to make a second attempt. Suddenly, two hands gripped her waist and she was lifted onto the seat.

  “Hey sweetheart, let me help you with that,” a man drawled and she turned to look into the most reassuring blue eyes she’d ever seen. Kel. She almost wept with relief to see him there.

  “Why, thank you,” she replied. Fortunately her innate manners were on autopilot because her mind was now mush.

  “You new ‘round here?” he asked as he slid onto the barstool beside her.

  “Uh, yes. I just came in to get a drink,” she whispered.

  Then taking a deep breath, she repeated. “Got a mite thirsty, this looked like a right-friendly sort of place.”

  In the blink of an instant she had turned from a shy dilettante with proper spacing and structure to her words to a Dixie belle with a put-on, sweet-as-pecan-pie Southern accent. She was even slurring her words slightly.

  What a trooper, Kel thought. “Well, what are you drinkin, darlin’? It’s on me.”

  She could see his eyes trying to lead her.

  “I don’t know, what do you suggest?”

  He smiled a devastatingly wicked smile and she noticed how rugged his face looked and how white and straight his teeth were. “Are you in the mood for something potent or something exotic?”

  “Surprise me.”

  Kel looked over at the bartender and the bartender nodded and came over. “A Sex on the Beach for the lady and I’ll have the same,” he said in a husky voice. It was apparent the reason he chose that particular drink was because it gave him an opening to flirt, his wink to the bartender confirmed it.

  “Sand’s too gritty. Unless you want to be t
he one on the bottom,” She countered, never missing a beat.

  He roared with laughter and it sounded so genuine that Laura thought maybe Kel had some acting experience in his past. She’d had some in college and even enjoyed it, but when she became engaged to Ryan, he had discouraged her from trying out for any parts.

  “I’ll be anywhere you tell me to be sweetheart, but I prefer cool crisp sheets, myself. Where’re you from?”

  “All over. I travel a lot.”

  He nodded as if to say, Good, you’re being vague. That’s the way a woman who just wants a one-nighter would be. “Are you here on business or for pleasure?”

  “Definitely pleasure,” she said as she picked up one of the drinks the bartender placed before them. She removed the decorative stirrer after giving it a quick circle around the glass. It was a slim piece of pink plastic with a green palm tree molded into it at the top. He watched as her dainty tongue darted out and licked it along the edge, then with a mischievous smile, she plunked it into his glass before picking her drink up to clink it with his.

  Man, she was a natural at this. “You married?” he asked as he adroitly moved the stirrer aside with his thumb. That was a standard question. Every man wanted to know what he was dealing with in that department when he hooked up with a lady at a bar.

  “Was.”

  “What happened?” he asked conversationally. “But if it’s too new, we don’t have to go there.”

  “It’s not new, it’s old news now. It broke. I couldn’t fix it.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. How long ago?”

  “Over two years. I’m over it. He was a sleaze.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Caught him sleeping around.”

  “On you? That’s hard to believe. You’re gorgeous. How could he think he could possibly do better?”

  “Well, that’s certainly very nice of you, Mr. . . .?”

  “My friends call me Dylan.”

  “Am I your friend, Dylan?”

  God, she was good. She must have taken some acting classes when she was at UNCW. “Do you want to be?” he whispered, bending low to her ear.

  “Maybe,” she said evasively, trying to be coy.

  A soft ballad came over the ancient jukebox in the corner and a few couples across the room got up to dance on the small wooden dance floor.

  “C’mon, come dance with me,” he said in a low throaty murmur as he slid off the stool and took her by the arm.

  She didn’t say anything, she just slid off her stool and took his other hand. It felt warm and firm wrapped around hers and he squeezed it gently. Her eyes met his and she had to fight back tears. His were sharp and piercing, and she doubted that there was a movement in the room that he wasn’t aware of. She blinked her eyes hard and forced them to soften, then she halfway smiled.

  When they reached the dance floor, he turned and in one swift, graceful movement he pulled her into his arms. As they moved to the soft strains of “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” he gingerly stroked her back and ran his fingertips up the sides of her bare arms while whispering encouraging words. He took more and more liberties with his hands as the song wound down and a new one began. Then bending to kiss her on the temple, he admonished her to put some feeling into her dancing so it looked liked she was trying to convince him that she was up for a good time. He told her to put her hands in his hair at the nape, to stroke her fingertips down his jaw line and to meet her eyes with his while smiling beguilingly.

  She did as he suggested and it was all he could do to keep his concentration. Her fingers touching him felt exquisite, very feminine and very soft. Then her soft voice broke through the sensual fog she was putting him in.

  “I hate that word, it always reminds me of that stupid movie with Clint Eastwood.”

  “The Beguiled?”

  “Yes, the one where they—”

  “Yes, I remember,” he said, putting a finger to her lips. “Don’t say it, you’ll spoil the mood I’m working on here.”

  His lips brushed her temple again, then slid through her hair to her ear. “Move your body in closer to mine, gyrate your hips a bit and make it look like you’re coming on to me so we can get out of here.” His warm breath tickling her ear made his request easy to comply with. She slid her foot between his and pressed her thigh against his.

  “Ahh . . .” he moaned as she settled her pelvis into him. It was a reaction that he didn’t even try to hold back. The woman was doing incredible things to him. As she was well and truly supposed to be.

  She could feel the hard ridge of him and for a terrifying moment realized what a truly large man he was.

  When the song was over, he led her back to the bar where they finished their drinks before ordering another round. Just as the bartender moved to clear his empty glass, Kel plucked up the palm tree stirrer. As he looked at her seductively, he ran his tongue down the length of it. Then he tucked it into the pocket of his sport coat.

  As he repeatedly stroked away the condensation on the outside of his glass, he continued to look her up and down and openly admire her. If anyone were watching, it would certainly look like he was taken with her. “You got a name?”

  “Kelly. Yeah, that’s a nice name.”

  He whooped with laughter again. Man she had this down pat. “Well, ‘Kelly,’ tell me, what do you do?”

  “What do you want me to do?” she breathed. Her voice had picked up a sultry air and he had to admire her for being able to call up all her wiles at a time like this.

  “I meant for a living, but I think you know that.”

  “I . . . I’m a stock broker.”

  Good choice. Almost anybody could talk about stocks for a few minutes. “Ah, the ups and downs.”

  “Mmmm, the ins and out,” she murmured.

  Sweet Jesus. This woman is not as naive as I thought. “Would you like another drink or should I just accompany you to a place where we can discuss the raging bull?”

  “I’m game. No beach though.”

  “No beach.”

  “Well come on then, time’s a wastin’.” She was all Southern and flirty now. Hell she was even smiling at him. He had to hand it to her, she was a natural, or he had totally mistaken her true nature all these years. He should never have built an image of her in his mind just by reading what was written about her in the social pages. For all he knew, she could really be a hellcat. But there was something about her that made him think otherwise, something that made him believe she was the genuine article, that she hadn’t changed that much since high school. Her smell maybe—it was regal and refined and made him want to stop and bask in it while he tried to pinpoint all the separate essences. Yes, she had the ultimate essence of woman and it stirred him greatly.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said as he threw a twenty and a five on the bar and winked at the bartender. Then he put his arm around her shoulders and led her out of the bar. Outside on the small stoop, he pretended to stumble and she reached out to steady him.

  “You look like an out-of-town business man who’s had one too many.” Peripherally her eyes swept him up and down as he walked. “A successful one. In more ways than one,” she added with a wicked smile.

  She was still in character and it occurred to him that maybe she had decided it would help to stay that way to get through the next part.

  “Thanks. You look like a tourist, all summery and up for a good time. Out for a one-nighter,” he said with a smile. “You did really good. I’m amazed. You didn’t even appear to be nervous. And the Southern thing along with the blotto thing was a nice touch.”

  “I wanted to get that part over with. I figured if I came in already tipsy it would be plausible to get out of there with you a little sooner.”

  “We
ll, if the rest goes as well as your performance in there . . .” He didn’t finish his thought, they were heading into the parking lot of the Jefferson Motel and there were people in the cars they walked alongside. Kel wasn’t obvious about it, but he took everything in.

  “Do you think he was in the bar?” she whispered.

  “I didn’t see anyone who would foot the bill, but it’s hard to say for sure. He could certainly have been there. Ready?”

  She let out a huge sigh. They were at the motel.

  “I’m going to try to shield you with my body as much as I can and I will try not to hurt you, but remember I still have a part to play in this as well; this is not my favorite scenario for getting off. I haven’t had a one-night stand since college.”

  “I would hope not. But I never have, so you’re ahead of the game where I’m concerned.”

  “You gonna be okay?”

  “I’ll be all right. I have to be, don’t I? I have no choice. Let’s just get it over with.”

  “Okay. Let’s go register. Room 12, remember?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hey,” he said as he stopped her by touching her hand, “I’ve got to get into this, and we need to get this part over with anyway.” He grabbed her by the back of her waist and pulled her into his chest. Her soft, yielding breasts came up against the muscled bands of his broad chest and desire spiked through him. He could feel her tremble as he tilted her chin, see her sparkling eyes lose their focus as she looked into his.

  “What part?” she stammered.

  “This part.” He leaned down and gently brushed his lips against hers, not caring if he smudged her dark lipstick. He let his lips linger, savoring the feel of her softening and warming to his kiss. His hand moved up to cup her cheek as he slanted his lips and claimed her mouth. He tasted her lipstick, it was slick and sweet like cherries. Kissing Laura was the most pleasurable sensation he’d had in a long time and he didn’t want it to end. He wanted to hold her in his arms like this and caress her until she made him stop. He wanted more, much more. When her tongue touched his, he nearly lost his mind.