Authors: Ginna Gray
"Oh, Max. It's perfect. I hardly recognize myself," she said in stunned surprise, gazing at her reflection in the mirror above the sink.
The wig was a smooth fall of sable brown that hung to her shoulders, the tips turning under in a soft pageboy. Uncompromisingly straight bangs hid her forehead and most of her auburn brows. Against the dark tresses her skin looked porcelain fair, the sleek style giving her a haughty elegance.
"Very nice," Max commented. "Though, personally, I prefer the fiery-haired beauty I know and love, it ought to give you a certain amount of protection."
His words reminded Erin of why the wig was necessary, and she swung around, her face taut with eagerness. "I hope you had better luck that I did today. I called every hotel and
(Missing part of pg 181)
up on their computer. She picked up the car at the Riviera Hotel at about ten in the morning, but the clerk who rented it to her, a Ms. Alma Kent, had already left for the day, and the manager refused to give me her home telephone number. I checked the phone book, but apparently it's unlisted."
"Didn't you explain that it was a matter of life and death?"
"Yep. But it didn't cut any ice. He was bending the rules to tell me what he did. However, he did say that the woman would be on duty tomorrow. We're going to be there bright and early in the morning to talk to Ms. Kent. I just hope to God that she remembers something that might tell us where Elise was heading."
Erin's shoulders slumped. "Oh, Max. Do you think she will? It seems like such a long shot."
"I know. But right now, it's the only lead we've got."
He pushed away from the door and walked back into the bedroom. Erin pulled off the wig and followed.
One of the other sacks Max had dropped by the door contained numerous cartons of Chinese food. They ate on the bed, with Erin sitting cross-legged in the middle and Max lounging across the foot, propped up on one elbow. Though he had brought two of everything, they were both hungry and managed to work their way through the astonishing array of dishes, talking only now and then.
When they were finished, Max gathered the empty cartons and napkins and stuffed them into the sack. Erin stood and flipped back the bedspread to shake off the crumbs. "Good grief. Look at that."
Max glanced back over his shoulder and grinned when he saw her dubiously eyeing the heart-strewn sheets. "Don't worry. The manager assured me that they're changed after each rental."
"I certainly hope so."
Chuckling, Max dumped the sack of garbage into the room's only wastebasket. "By the way, I got us some transportation. I bought a pickup."
"You bought a truck?"
"Yeah. And some western duds to go with it. I figure they're not going to be looking for a kicker and his lady."
"Max, you shouldn't have done that! This crazy chase is costing you a fortune, and—"
"Don't worry about it. I can afford it," he assured her, cutting into her worried protest. "It's just a used truck, kind of beat-up looking, but it's got a hot engine. Anyway, I've always wanted a pickup."
Erin's face softened, and she looked at him tenderly, love overwhelming her. Smiling, she walked to Max and looped her arms around his neck. He looked surprised, but his arms automatically enfolded her. "Has anyone ever told you, Max Delany, that you're a very nice man?" Her voice was husky with emotion, her eyes shining.
He laced his fingers together across her lower back, just below her waist, and rocked her against him. "Hmm, let me think. No. No, I don't think so. Though there was this little firebrand of a redhead who once called me a jerk."
"She must have been out of her head at the time," Erin said with conviction. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his chin. Tipping her head, she mouthed the underside of his jaw and nibbled her way down his neck. "It was probably just a case of temporary insanity, brought on by stress," she whispered between nips.
Max closed his eyes and shuddered. His expression was strained. "Well, I suppose she...was a little...a little, uh... overwrought."
"Of course she was." Erin's tongue delved into the hollow at the base of his throat. "Otherwise she would have seen instantly what a wonderful..." She skimmed the rims of his ears with her fingertips, "...caring..." Nuzzling aside his shirt, she kissed his collarbone. "... exciting..." Her hands slid downward over his chest, and with nimble fingers she released his shirt buttons one by one. "... fantastically sexy man you are."
Her hands slipped beneath the open shirt and roamed over his taut abdomen as she rubbed her nose back and forth in the mat of dark hair on his chest, inhaling his scent. Leaning back, she blew ever so softly on the silky thatch. The tender torment wrung a moan from Max, and with a small, knowing smile as old as Eve, Erin closed her eyes and pressed her face into the soft curls, her tongue stabbing through them to trace wet patterns oo his flesh.
"Oh, sweet heaven!"
The harsh cry tore from Max as his big hand clamped the back of her head, pressing her tightly to him. For a moment he stood with his head thrown back, eyes closed, his face twisted with fierce pleasure. When he could stand it no longer he curled his fingers into her hair, tugged her head back and kissed her with a force and desperation that bordered on violence.
Erin responded with a matching hunger. What had begun as a gentle seduction exploded into a storm of need. It spiraled within her, hot, frantic need that made her heart pound and her feminine core throb with a hollow, yearning ache. Lips rocked, tongues thrust, bodies strained closer. Her hands clutched at him, fingers digging into the hard muscles of his back.
Dimly Erin knew that fear as well as passion drove her. It was fear born of the helpless, inevitable sensation that for them, time was slipping away. They would find Elise, if not tomorrow, then maybe the next day, or the one after that. Soon. She could feel it.
She loved her twin and wanted to find her, to keep her safe, but no matter how much she wanted to believe otherwise, Erin could not shake the feeling that when they did, Max would be lost to her.
This time together might well be all they would ever have, and she was consumed with a driving compulsion to grab at it with both hands, to live for the moment and store up all the loving memories she could.
Max broke off the kiss and looked at her, breathing hard. "God, I love you! All day I thought of how it had been when we made love, and it's been driving me crazy. Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" he asked raggedly.
Beneath half-closed lids Erin's eyes held a provocative glitter. Her lips curved up in a siren's smile. "The same thing you're doing to me, I hope."
"Witch," he growled, giving her hair a playful tug before releasing it.
With his hands clasped together in the small of her back, he held her close and maneuvered her backward toward the bed. "We have no choice, you know. We have to wait till morning before we can follow up on that lead. Which means... we've got about ten hours to fill," he said suggestively. His mouth quirked, but there was nothing teasing about the look in his eyes. Desire blazed in their blue depths, and Erin felt her bones melt beneath that hot, hungry stare.
"Yes, I know." She smoothed her hand over his chest and coyly wound a curl around her finger as she added in a seductive murmur, "Do you have any suggestions?"
"Well... as a matter of fact—" the backs of Erin's legs bumped into the mattress, bringing them to a halt "—I do."
He gripped the lower edge of her blue knit top, peeled it off over her head and tossed it aside. She was not wearing a bra, and his eyes seemed to sizzle as they fastened on her breasts. He touched one pearly mound, trailed his forefinger down the silken slope and circled the nipple with a slow, maddening touch that made it tighten and ache. When at last the pad of his finger brushed that sensitive nub, Erin caught her breath.
A smile of sheer masculine satisfaction tilted his mouth, and in a quick movement Max dealt with the snap and zipper on her crisp tan-and-blue-print skirt, hooked his thumbs beneath the waistband and pushed it down over her hips. The garment fell to the floor and crumpled in a heap around her ankles.
Grasping her waist, Max braced one knee on the bed and toppled her backward, coming down with her. He lay half over her, his gaze drowsy and hot, wickedly sensual, his grin a devilish enticement. "Now then," he murmured against her lips, "about that Jell-O..."
A long while later Erin lay in Max's arms, her head cradled on his shoulder. She felt boneless, her body satiated from the hours of delicious lovemaking they had shared, but her mind would not let her rest.
One of her legs was hooked over Max's, and her hand lay on his chest, her fingers threaded in the crisp mat of hair. She smiled as she felt the slow rise and fall of his rib cage with each deep breath of slumber. Absently she rubbed her foot up and down his leg and shivered as its hairy roughness tickled her sole.
Outside, traffic still rushed by and the garish sign in front of the motel flashed on and off. With every blink the red glow spilled through a crack at the edge of the draperies, lanced up the wall and bounced off the mirrored ceiling in a thin line. Erin watched it, bemused.
Never in her wildest imaginings had she thought she'd spend a night in a tawdry dump that was little more than a brothel. Yet it didn't seem to matter. The hours there with Max had been the most wonderful she had ever known. Sighing, she snuggled against his shoulder, knowing in her heart that she would be happy anywhere as long as she was with him.
Where would they be a week from now?
she wondered, gazing into the darkness.
More important, would they still be together?
Though she didn't want to admit it, Erin knew, deep down inside, that the odds were against it.
The thought brought with it a pain so sharp that she closed her eyes and caught her lower lip between her teeth to keep from crying out. It was unthinkable. Unbearable.
Yet she knew, if it came to that, she would somehow have to bear it. Because if it was a matter of hurting Elise or hurting herself, she was certain what her decision would have to be.
Don't think about it, she told herself. There's no sense in making yourself miserable in advance. Just live each moment as it comes, and enjoy the happiness you have now. Anyway, Max could be right, you know: you could be imagining the whole thing.
Determined to heed her own pep talk, Erin shifted into a more comfortable position against Max's side, closed her eyes and lay perfectly still.
A moment later a tear slipped from beneath her lashes and dripped onto his shoulder, the salty wetness melding their flesh together.
❧
The couple who left the Red Rooster the next morning bore little resemblance to the man and woman who had checked in the day before.
Max wore his western gear with the indolent panache of a longtime cowboy. He looked lean and tough in the tight jeans and shirt, and the cowboy boots emphasized his natural loose-jointed gait. The roll-brimmed Stetson was pulled low and cocked rakishly to one side. Beneath it his eyes were hidden behind reflective sunglasses.
In direct contrast, Erin sat beside him in the battered pickup, stiff as a ramrod. The squaw blouse and full denim skirt he had purchased for her were attractive and comfortable enough, but she felt self-conscious wearing the strange clothes and the long sable wig. In addition, tucked away in the motel room she'd at least had an illusion of safety; out in the open again, she felt exposed and vulnerable.
After a hurried coffee-shop breakfast, they arrived at the car rental counter in the Riviera Hotel at exactly nine o'clock, the same time Ms. Kent was due for work. Two women stood behind the counter, a petite brunette of about thirty and a statuesque young woman in her mid-twenties with streaked blond hair. Both were attractive and impeccably groomed, and both wore that gloss of worldliness that seemed to be a prerequisite for employment at the casinos and plush hotels along the Las Vegas Strip.
After a quick scan of the name tags pinned to their stylish khaki and maroon uniforms, Max spoke directly to the blonde.
"Ms. Kent? My name is Max Delany, and this is Ms. Blaine." He poked the brim of his hat with his forefinger, pushing it to the back of his head. Removing his sunglasses, he gave her his most persuasive smile. "We're trying to locate someone, and we're hoping you can help us."
The woman's face lit with interest when she looked up into Max's handsome face. She spared Erin a glance and dismissed her as unimportant, turning back to Max with a smile. "I'll certainly try. What can I do for you, Mr. Delany?" she asked with an effusiveness that made Erin grit her teeth.
"According to your company's main computer, on Wednesday morning you rented a car to Mrs. Elise Holman. She's twenty-seven, has bright red hair and brown eyes, and she looks a lot like Ms. Blaine. Do you remember her?"
The flirtatious look faded from the blonde's face. This time she made an intent study of Erin's features, a puzzled frown forming between her brows. Erin shifted and tugged at her wig.
"Yes. Yes, of course. With so many people looking for her, how could I forget?"
Max and Erin tensed and exchanged a worried look. "Someone else has been asking questions about Mrs. Holman?" he demanded. "Who? When?"
"Last night. Two men came to my apartment. They said they were policemen and that they'd gotten my name and address from Mr. Lowe, the manager at the main office."
"Did they show you any identification? A badge or anything?"
"Yes. That is... one did."
"And were you able to tell them anything?"
"Not much. Only that it was a one-day rental and that she asked which would be the best route to take to Salt Lake City. Also, she bought Nevada and Utah maps."
Max probed, but the woman could remember nothing else about the transaction, so he thanked her for her help and ushered Erin out.
"At least now we know where Elise headed," she said eagerly, hurrying along beside him.
Max's face was like granite as they stepped out into the brilliant Nevada sunshine. Several times Erin was forced to break into a trot just to keep up with his long, angry strides.
"Yeah. And so do those two goons. Only they have a head start on us."
He bundled Erin into the truck and strode around to the other side. When he climbed in behind the wheel his face was grim. He stared straight ahead, then brought his fist down on the steering wheel so hard that Erin jumped. "Dammit! They must have gotten to Lowe just minutes after I left. They probably flashed that badge to get him to give them Ms. Kent's address." His mouth twisted in a disgusted grimace. "Which means that Elise was right; at least one of those guys is with the police."
"So? What are we waiting for?" Erin demanded. "Let's go to Salt Lake City."
Max removed his hat and raked a weary hand through his hair. "Sweetheart, don't you understand? If those guys left last night, they're probably already there. They even could have found her by now."
"Maybe. But I don't think so." The barely restrained excitement in Erin's voice drew a sharp look from Max, and she gave him a slow smile, her eyes dancing with secret knowledge. "Because, you see, I think I know where she went, and it wasn't to a hotel, which is where they'll be looking. We have an uncle in Salt Lake, and I'd be willing to bet that Elise headed straight for his house."
The grimness vanished from Max's face. "All right!" he shouted exuberantly. "Now we're getting somewhere." He crammed the Stetson back on his head, pulled the brim low and reached for the ignition key, but his hand halted in midair, halfway there.
"Hey, wait a minute. Instead of driving all that way, why don't we just call?"
Erin frowned. "I'm afraid it will spook Elise. She's determined to protect me by keeping her distance, and if she finds out I'm following her, she might take off again."
"Mmm, you could be right." Pursing his lips, Max drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "I'll tell you what—why don't I call and speak to your uncle? I'll fill him in on what's going on and ask him not to say anything to Elise. Then we'll drive up there. How's that?"
As Erin nodded her agreement he grinned and reached for the door handle. "Okay. Let's do it."
They went back inside the hotel to use a phone in the lobby. Erin stood beside Max and fidgeted as he talked to her uncle, catching only bits and pieces of the conversation over the hum of activity around them. She expected him to hand her the phone so that she could speak to her uncle also, but to her surprise, after talking for no more than a minute, Max hung up. When he turned to her he wore a worried look, and Erin felt a sudden chill shiver up her spine.
"What is it? What did he say?"
Max took a quick look around, then guided Erin over to a small group of chairs. When they were seated he took both of her hands in his. The concerned look in his eyes made her even colder. "Erin..." Gritting his teeth, he looked away, then sighed and looked back again. "Sweetheart, Elise never arrived at your uncle's. He hasn't heard a word from her."