“You found her.”
Lyra stood on tiptoe, wrapped her arms around his neck, and brushed her mouth across his. Testing her powers of seduction. Hoping she had not misread the heat in his eyes.
“Lyra.”
Her name was a husky whisper on his lips.
He tightened his grip on her waist, pulled her close, and took control of the kiss. The fierceness of his response thrilled her and briefly overwhelmed her senses. The atmosphere in the room was suddenly charged with a hot, sensual energy. She would have collapsed if he had not held her so tightly.
She had run a number of experiments with kissing over the years and had become adept at the art. But no man had ever kissed her like this. She knew that for the first time in her life she was experiencing something beyond casual sexual attraction, an emotion that was more intense, more compelling. Passion. The kind that left a woman breathless, the kind that could change her life. And this was it. Regardless of the outcome, this was a kiss she would never forget.
She launched herself into the storm.
Chapter 32
Angela Merryweather studied the stranger standing in the middle of the living room and told herself she had been a fool to let Luther Pell into the house. What smart woman opened a door to a man at four thirty in the morning?
Everything about him set off warning bells. Her intuition told her he was ruthless and driven. She suspected that he carried a gun under his elegantly tailored jacket.
When he had arrived a short time ago and told her why he wanted to talk to her, she had known the smart thing to do would be to send him away and lock the door. But instinct had warned her it would not be that easy to get rid of him. And deep down she desperately wanted to talk to someone about the terrible thing that had happened to her. She wanted someone to believe her and tell her it was not her fault that she had been kidnapped and violated. She yearned for an avenging angel or the devil—she no longer cared which one showed up so long as he promised to destroy those who had hurt her.
The rage seethed inside her night and day. It kept her awake andstole the light from every aspect of her life. Her marriage was falling apart because of what had happened. She knew the only reason Bradley had not filed for a quiet Reno divorce was because it would ruin his plans for a political career. He felt trapped in the marriage, not only because he needed her money but because the damned photos could destroy him. He blamed her for the disaster. That was what hurt the most. They had been friends and lovers at one time. Now he despised her and she yearned to be free of him. But she could not shake the heavy burden of guilt she carried. She felt responsible for the threat that was hanging over his head. She could not bring herself to walk out because the kidnappers would still have leverage over him. The photos could do enormous damage regardless of whether or not she and Bradley got a quiet divorce. The press would make him look like a cuckold.
Bradley would be furious if he knew that she was about to confide her secret to a stranger. But Bradley was not home this morning. He was gone a lot these days, preferring to spend his time at the office and the beach house.
“I’m sorry your friend is missing, Mr. Pell, but I don’t see how I can help you,” she said.
“I want you to tell me everything you can about the kidnappers and the place where you were held,” Luther said.
“I was warned that not only would I pay a heavy price if I did not keep quiet, my husband and my family would also be badly hurt.”
“Blackmail?”
“Yes.”
“They’ve got something on you? Secrets?”
“They didn’t know anything about me or my family, really. Just that we have money and that my husband is preparing to go into politics. So no, they didn’t dig up any deep, dark secrets. They created new ones.”
“Why you?”
She sighed. “I don’t think I was targeted directly. I suspect I was thevictim of some very clever advertising aimed at women in my position. Women of means.”
“Wealthy women who move in certain social circles?”
“Yes. Every two months since the spa opened last year I received a handwritten invitation from Madam Guppy offering me a week of tranquility and three full days of exclusive, personally designed spa treatments. It’s billed as a vacation for the fashionable woman who needs time away from the demands of family and society, time to fortify the mind and rejuvenate the body. I ignored the invitations until I finally decided to accept one.”
“Sounds like the kidnappers put a lot of hooks in the water, see who takes the bait, and then select one.”
She winced. “Talk about fishing in a barrel. Only wealthy women can afford Guppy’s spa. I’m sure those are the only ones who receive the invitations. The vast majority of the ladies who move in my social circle would be lured by the promise of a few days of peace and privacy during which they can indulge themselves at an exclusive hotel and spa. The rich suffer from strained nerves and stress, too, just like everyone else, Mr. Pell.”
“I know.” He paused a beat. “Photographs?”
She raised her brows. “You’re very insightful. Yes, they took photographs of me with a man. I was chained to a bed. I was nude. They threatened to mail them to all of our friends, the people at my husband’s club, his business acquaintances, and the press. Bradley would be ruined before he even got his campaign off the ground.”
“The photos would destroy him and humiliate you.”
“Technically, I wasn’t raped, Mr. Pell, but only because the bastard who assaulted me could not get an erection. The photographs don’t show that, however. They were taken from angles that make it appear he forced himself inside me. Going to the police wouldn’t do any good, because I never saw his face. He and the woman behind the camera wore hideous rubber masks, the kind that are used in spas to smooth wrinkles.”
