“Take this.” The guy handed him a card, with a cell phone number scribbled on it. “I’ll be back to see you, if I don’t hear from you first. I know some people are shy about calling. Don’t be shy, Wilder.”
Wilcox walked out. Brian made his way up the stairs, clenching the banister and his sphincter muscle with the same desperation.
Damiana came out of his office, eyes big with curiosity. “So what did he want? I am so sorry, but he kind of creeped me out, so I—”
“Go get my electronic organizer. Get on the Internet,” he snapped. “I want you to find Vivien D’Onofrio for me. Now.”
“Her? But I thought you…I thought she—”
“Do it!” he bellowed, and she darted away, heels clicking.
He lurched into his office, dismayed to see Coco taking her own sweet time putting away all her oils and colored crystals. “Get out!”
She shoved her stuff into her case and scurried.
He got to the bathroom just in time to avoid the unthinkable. He sat there so long, his ass fell asleep on the cold ring of porcelain.
How had that man known? No one in his life knew. He kept his dirty little thing so fucking secret, it was practically secret from himself.
He had many lovers. This had nothing to do with his love life. This was a private thing. Deep in the night, he got that secret, nasty itch. To play with a fantasy that had started with his affair with Vivi D’Onofrio.
So small, so slender. A lost kitten. So young. She’d been twenty-one when he met her, but she could’ve easily passed for fifteen. And so talented. He had secretly hated her for that. All that talent, coming out her fucking pores, and she didn’t even know it. So goddamn innocent.
The talent was wasted on her. It had driven him mad with envy.
The next best thing to having talent was controlling talent. And he had tried. God, how he had tried. But she was like an unbroken horse. Ungrateful, whining bitch, biting the hand that fed her. They’d have made money hand over fist, if she’d just done as he told her. But no.
He’d wanted to play her, like an instrument. Wanted it so bad, he lay awake in the dark of the night, grinding his teeth, milking his dick.
After she left, he’d held his nose and done a little digging into the seamy underworld of the New York sex industry and commenced a brand-new secret indulgence. Re-creating a scenario calculated to make himself feel exactly the way he needed to feel. To get off. Explosively.
He didn’t do it often. Every couple of months or so. A slender big-eyed girl in a hotel room, lost and scared. Him, controlling her. Using her. Punishing her for what Vivi had done to him. Making her cry.
His heart rate kicked up, hot and jagged, just thinking of it.
This situation was probably Viv’s own fault. She’d behaved badly, got on the wrong side of some criminal badass. The badass was out for payback. Brian was an innocent bystander. Caught in the crossfire.
Fuck that. He was rolling over on her, the minute he got the chance. He owed Viv D’Onofrio nothing. She’d stiffed him in every way.
Let her pay the price for her own fuckups.
He was already imagining how he’d respond when the news of her violent, untimely end came to him. He would be shocked and sad but not surprised. What a waste, he’d say, his face pale and grave. Shaking his head at the tragedy of it. But he’d seen it coming. Oh, yes, he had.
It was just the law of karma in action.
Vivi was deeply absorbed in making a list of all the furniture she wanted. Bed, couch, coffee table, bookcase. A nice rug. A dresser, a floor lamp. A spice rack, even, by God. Such a luxury, to hang clothes in a closet. To tape a favorite photo onto the fridge.
The knock on the door made her jump. “Who is it?” she called.
“It’s me.” His deep voice made the entire surface of her skin tingle madly. She braced herself as she opened the door.
Jack stood there, holding a tray of tiny, feathery green seedlings. She stared, confused. He handed the tray to her. “These are for you.”
“For me?” she repeated stupidly.
“Eranthis hyemalis,” he said. “Winter Aconite. I saw some, at the nursery. I thought of you. They’re not blooming now, of course, and it’s late to plant them in the green, but what the hell. We can give it a try. They like well-drained soil, and lots of shade. We can set them out beneath those big oaks over at the far side of the lawn. If you want.”
She closed her open mouth. “Ah…wow. I, uh—”
“If we get lucky, they’ll multiply. Make a floral carpet.”
She was so charmed, she felt her face heat up and her throat clutch. “That is so sweet of you,” she whispered.
He shrugged. “I’m sorry. I was a jerk, today. And last night.”
The heat in her face and her throat spread, a soft, warm glow.
He stepped in the door as she laid the seedlings on the kitchen counter. “Do you want to go to the hot springs now?”
Nothing had changed, even if he had apologized, Vivi reminded herself. Going to a beautiful remote place to sit in a pool of hot water all alone with this man was a dumb idea. And the fact that he was acting sweet was all the more reason to stay away. “I don’t know much about plants,” she stalled, stroking a tender frond.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll show you,” he said. “So? You coming?”
“Yes,” she heard herself say. Sealing her own doom.
“Let’s go.” He started down the stairs, Edna scrambling after.
“You mean, right now? This minute? Don’t we need towels, bathing suits? Anything?”
“Bring what you want, but wear jeans. The poison oak is thick.”
“One minute.” Vivi closed the door, shucked her clothes, and pulled on her old one-piece. She yanked her clothes on, tossed a towel over her shoulder. About to do the stupidest thing she’d ever deliberately done, and she couldn’t even breathe, she was so excited.
The path was difficult. They hopped boulders by the rushing river for a mile or so, until sheer cliffs rose up from the swift, green glacial water. She followed Jack into a thicket of dense bushes, clambering up one steep hill and down another, through a narrow cleft between two towering boulders, and under the draped fronds of a blackberry bush.
A tendril snarled in her hair. She was struggling to untangle it when he appeared beside her. He took the long, thorny vine in his hand. Vivi stared at the hollow at the base of his throat. He was so warm. He smelled so good. Her body ached to know how it would feel to lean against that solid chest. What would she do if he kissed her?
Oh, please. Duh. She’d jump all over him. Eat him for lunch.
He let go of the lock of hair, laying it over her shoulder. He turned without saying a word and started to climb. Vivi scrambled after him, relief warring with disappointment.
The path merged with a smaller streambed from the hillside above that had carved a gully leading down to the river. The walls of the gully were steep, the rocks covered with moss, thick with wild mint and luxuriant, spotted yellow flowers with heavy heads like snapdragons, and tufts of fragrant wild mint. Vivi picked her way from boulder to boulder, Edna splashing ahead of her. At the mouth of the spring, Jack pointed upriver. “Look there, past that tall rock.”
Her eyes followed his hand. There were several pools, sunken into the huge, flat gray rocks of the riverbank. They were surrounded by the nodding yellow flowers and mint. The last rays of sun that still managed to slant into the river canyon lit up the water, the multicolored pebbles, and the glittering sand. Faint curls of steam rose from the water. The river rushed noisily by a few yards away.
He watched her face, intently. “Like it?”
She looked around, enchanted. “Oh, my God. It’s superb.”
Her delight was shattered when she realized that Jack had stripped off his shirt and was unbuckling his belt. Oh, God. Jack Kendrick fully clothed was already too much voltage for her circuits to handle. Jack Kendrick naked would blow her fuses to hell and gone.
“Hey, you! Just wait a damn second!” she said sharply.