Lawman's Perfect Surrender (12 page)

Today’s topic was overcoming negative relationships. She’d been looking forward to it all week.

“I can’t get enough of that.”

“Someday you will. Someday you’ll graduate beyond this level and grow to the next.”

“And what level is that?”

“One step at a time, dear Gemma. One step at a time.”

Gemma smiled and shared a glance with Lacy, who didn’t smile back. Didn’t she like what Samuel suggested? Did she know what his next step was?

“There is something I’d like to discuss with you, and the party will be a perfect time,” Samuel said.

“What would you like to discuss?”

“I can help you plan for your future here in Cold Plains, Gemma. I know of an investment opportunity that might interest you.”

She hadn’t thought about investing the money she’d gotten from her divorce. “I’m already interested.”

“A woman like you has to keep her finances in order. With my help, you’ll never have to work again.”

She wondered what he would gain from helping her. She didn’t care if she had to work, but if she invested Jed’s money, it would be like laundering it, cleansing it of his poison.

“Thank you for looking out for me, Samuel.” He was always doing that. He didn’t even know her very well and he always had her best interests in mind. At least, it seemed that way. “I can’t wait for your party.”

“I look forward to seeing you, then.” With that, he returned to his adoring throng. He was a celebrity. Cold Plains had a star and it was Samuel Grayson.

Chapter 6

F
ord would have left a half hour ago if he hadn’t seen Gemma among the crowd at the Stillwater Inn. Samuel was throwing an elaborate party at his latest haunt. Towering fountains. A crystalline pool. Servants with trays of tonic water. Masseuses. Pedicurists at the feet of the wealthy. Fake laughter completed the orgy. It didn’t seem to matter that a man had been murdered in one of the inn’s rooms. Unless something about that was significant. Why had Samuel chosen this venue for his event?

From his hiding spot behind a thick island of shrubs and blooming flowers, Ford watched a woman lean back on her lawn chair and arch her back as she poured a bottle of tonic water over her body. Did she think it would make her live forever?

Having watched Gemma talking to Samuel for a good forty-five minutes now, he had to stop himself from charging in there and dragging her out by her shiny dark hair. He hadn’t seen her since he left her house a week ago. Thoughts of her had weighed on him. He had to force himself to stay away from Cold Plains Coffee on the off chance he’d run into her. He’d been starved for just the sight of her. To see her here shot him through with disappointment. And something else he was reluctant to name.

The swelling on her nose was gone. The cuts on her face were faint scars and there were no more traces of the bruises. He couldn’t have prepared himself for her beauty.

What was Grayson saying to her? Whatever it was, she loved every word. She glowed. She smiled. She laughed. Had a week been long enough for him to get his tentacles into her? Was she yielding to his will?

Seeing her flash another one of her magnificent smiles at the man, Ford clenched his fists. Was she attracted to him? Grayson was handsome and adept at hiding his psychosis behind a magnetizing personality. People fell for him and his ideology. What would Ford do if Gemma became one of them? What would he do if Grayson wanted her to be more than another Devotee?

Kill him. He pictured his hand clasped at Grayson’s neck, choking the breath out of him. And then, just as quickly, he got hold of himself. He ran his fingers through his hair, hoping this damn party would end soon, or at least that Gemma would leave.

He endured Grayson handing Gemma a business card and her nodding agreement over whatever he said. He endured him kissing her cheek. And then, at last, the party began to thin. Everyone had already eaten the barbecued lamb and about thirty other dishes, all prepared with health in mind. Health and richness befitting a man with power and money. Befitting a town that demanded both from its citizens. Perfection.

Ford slipped away from the cluster of vegetation and headed for the front of the building, stopping before the doors where he wouldn’t miss Gemma. He didn’t want to admit why he felt so driven to have it out with her, only knew there was no stopping him. Watching her had worked him up into a lather. Dressed in an ocean-blue bikini and a matching sheer sarong, she was a vision for his hungry eyes. She’d left her hair down and her sunglasses made her look like a movie star. Just like Grayson.

That’s what ate him up the most. Just watching her stirred a roaring flame of desire in him, and yet she fitted into this crowd so well. She looked as if she belonged among them—the rich and flawless.

She and Lacy emerged from the inn. He should just turn around and leave. Something kept his feet still. His ire. His passion. Emotion he couldn’t control at the moment.

Lacy pointed him out. Gemma’s smile faded, though her face still glowed from her afternoon of fun and pampering and Grayson’s sinister ministrations. Nails freshly painted, skin bronzed from the sun, she was striking. Her trim, petite body didn’t have an ounce of fat on it.

“Ford.” Surprise marked her tone.

“Having a nice afternoon?”

She exchanged a glance with Lacy.

“I’ll wait for you in my car,” Lacy said.

“Okay.” Gemma turned back to him. “What are you doing here? Did something happen?” She looked around.

He wouldn’t reveal that he’d followed Bo here. “Are you getting personal invitations to Grayson’s events now?”

“It was a harmless pool party.”

“Yeah. Real harmless. Your ex-husband was murdered here and Grayson had the whole afternoon to work you over.”

“Work…” Her eyes flashed with anger. “He wasn’t working me over.”

“Why’d he give you a business card?”

“You were spying on me?”

“Does he want your money?”

That made her flinch a little. “He talked to me about an investment opportunity.”

“One I’m sure he’ll benefit from. Open your eyes, Gemma. He’s interested in more than your pretty face.” He hoped that was all.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“I saw the way you were with him. Are you going to let him give you a tattoo now?” He couldn’t contain himself, and worse, he didn’t understand the degree of his emotion. Why did seeing her enjoying the company of another man bother him so much? The answer taunted him.

It took her a moment to respond, during which she studied him incredulously. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you?”

“That’s ridiculous. Samuel doesn’t tattoo anyone. I’ve heard all the rumors and I don’t believe them. Why do you think Samuel would do that?”

“Who do you think arranged for your bracelet to be planted by Jed’s body?”

She scoffed. “That wasn’t Samuel.”

The way she said his name inflamed him further. An afternoon trapped in Samuel’s disingenuous web had already polluted her rationale. “I keep having to remind myself that you’re new here, so I’ll overlook your ignorance.”

“Why are you so mad?”

“Because you’re here, having a great time with that…killer.”

Her eyes widened. “Don’t you think that’s pushing it?”

“The rumors are true, Gemma. People do get his tattoos. His Devotees are brainwashed to follow him. And if he decides they aren’t perfect or if they disagree with him, they disappear. Sometimes they die.”

A long silence passed while she absorbed that. “Why do you care so much?”

Her question stopped him short. “Why do I care that you’re enchanted by a psychopath?”

“Samuel isn’t a psychopath.”

He should have expected her to deny Grayson was anything but a savior. “Stop saying his name.”

“You’re jealous.”

He ignored that. “It means nothing to you that the rumors are all true?”

She hesitated. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“What proof do you have?”

“Dead bodies keep piling up and Grayson is behind every single one of them. One way or another.”

“That’s not proof. That’s your opinion.”

“In this case, my opinion happens to be right. I don’t need proof. I’ve seen enough to know what he’s capable of.”

She considered him with new insight. “I’ll ask you again. Why do you care so much?”

About her. That’s what she was asking. He didn’t know if she believed him about the murders and she wasn’t going to tell him. She wanted to know if he cared. When the answer—
yes
—came into his mind, a trapped feeling quickly followed. He did care. He cared enough to let temptation overrule. Except, he could never forget how it felt to lose someone he loved, and he couldn’t risk that again.

“I care about anyone who falls prey to Samuel Grayson,” he said at last.

The inquiring look in her eyes clouded with disappointment. “I’m not your problem anymore, Ford. If I decide to see Samuel, I’ll see him.” She started walking toward Lacy’s Mercedes sedan.

Ford caught up to her. “Gemma. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”

“That’s not your call to make.”

She was upset because he hadn’t told her he cared the way she hoped. Just when she was about to go around the back of the parallel-parked sedan, he grasped her arm and eased her to a stop.

“Gemma…” So much confusing emotion jumbled up his mind that he couldn’t organize it all. “He’s dangerous.”

“I don’t see it that way.”

Somehow he had to convince her. “You haven’t noticed anything strange? Nothing? No matter how small?”

With that she averted her head. She had noticed something.

“Promise me you won’t go near him anymore. No more seminars. No more glamorous parties.”

“I like the seminars. They help me.”

“I know they do.” Under false perceptions. “Can’t you find a therapist instead?”

“I don’t need therapy.”

The seminars were a form of therapy. “Then buy some self-help books. Just don’t go near Grayson anymore.”

She searched his eyes. “Why are you so jealous?”

“I’m not…” Even as he said it he knew it was a lie. “All right. I am. I would be jealous of any man who makes you laugh the way Grayson made you laugh today. But that has nothing to do with why I don’t want you anywhere near him.”

A smile reserved only for him dazzled her face. The light reached her eyes and he was captivated.

“Stop doing that,” he said.

That only rewarded him with an all-out, megawatt smile.

She was killing him.

Putting her hand on his chest and moving closer, she said huskily, “You know what I think?”

He was afraid to ask.

She slid her other hand onto his chest and pressed her body against his. “I think—” her hands ran up over his shoulders and he thought he’d die right then “—you’re afraid of what this means.”

“What’s that?”

Rising up onto her toes, she pressed her warm, soft lips to his. “That.”

Unable to resist her, he wrapped his arm around her and held her head as he kissed her the way she’d encouraged him to. When he finished, it took all of his willpower to release her and step back.

“Stay away from Grayson,” he said, her sultry expression making it exceedingly difficult for him to turn and walk away.

* * *

As though hypnotized, Gemma got into Lacy’s car, sitting in the passenger seat, staring through the windshield, still reeling from that kiss. The sun was low in the sky but the clear day was still bright and warm, adding to the array of awe singing inside her.

“That man’s got it bad for you,” Lacy said.

“Huh” was all she could muster.

“I mean, I knew he liked you, but…whoa. I’ve never seen a man kiss a girl like that.”

“Yeah.”

“Hot sex is one thing, but that…that is something different, honey.”

That brought her out of her hypnosis. “What?”

“He’s madly in love with you.”

“No, he isn’t!”

“Yes, he is. And you’re in love with him.”

“I am not.” She swatted her hand through the air with the ridiculous idea, while anxiety churned her stomach sour.

“Neither of you knows it yet, that’s all.” Lacy chuckled. “It’s just like the movies.”

“You said he had too much baggage.”

“That was before I saw him kiss you.” Lacy drove away from the inn. “And I’d like to see you happy, Gemma.”

She believed that’s what Lacy genuinely wanted, but falling in love with Ford wasn’t a smart thing to do. Neither was getting pregnant…

Panic stirred her anxiety to a new level. She hadn’t gotten her period this month. If she was pregnant, she couldn’t depend on Ford to be there for her.

Oh, God, what if she was…?

“It could be worse,” Lacy said as she drove. “You could be dealing with Alan.”

Gemma didn’t miss the subtle confession. “What’s going on with him?”

“He’s mad that I went to this party without him. He wasn’t invited. Samuel made it clear this was invitation-only. And Alan had to work anyway. I don’t know why he’s so mad.”

“Doesn’t he work for Samuel?”

“He doesn’t report directly to him.”

“What does he do?” Gemma hoped to get an answer out of her this time.

Lacy shrugged as though it didn’t matter. “Probably something over at the community center.”

“You mean you don’t know what he does for Samuel?”

“He supports the community center.”

Her vagueness made her suspicious. “Why did you go to the party if your boyfriend had such a big problem with it?”

“Are you kidding? Turn down an invitation from Samuel? No way!”

“What would he do if you politely declined? Kill you?” Gemma laughed halfheartedly. She wasn’t actually sure the answer would be no.

“No, but he might run me out of town. I wouldn’t be able to go to the seminars anymore. I’d be an outcast.”

Run her out of town? Apprehension clamped down on her hope that nothing was wrong with Samuel and the sanctuary she’d found in Cold Plains. “For not going to a party? What if you were in the hospital?”

“Having to go to the hospital would be worse. Samuel hates illness of any kind. We have to stay healthy.”