Danger Zone (26 page)

Inspiration struck. “I won’t be. Aurora’s there.”

Lifting an eyebrow, Quinn shook his head. “You told me she planned on staying at the hospital tonight, like she did last night.” Aurora had convinced the nurses that the more she talked to Ashley, the quicker her daughter would recover.

Ellie rolled her eyes. “I forgot I told you that.” She should learn to keep her mouth shut. This whole situation seemed unreal. “I just can’t believe someone’s out to get me. It doesn’t make sense,” she said quietly.

“I’m making an executive decision. If you won’t stay here then I’m coming with you,” he said. “I can’t worry about you all night. That’s cruel and unusual punishment.”

Equal parts of dread and relief washed through her. Spending more time with him was only going to make saying goodbye harder, but she hadn’t relished the idea of being alone. As long as Quinn didn’t push the Leo thing, she was good. His macho possessive act only went so far. Smiling, she playfully punched his chest. “Get your things then. I have laundry to do. I’m warning you, this won’t be fun and I don’t do room service.”

Quinn grabbed a gym bag from the closet and stuffed it with some things from the drawers and the bathroom. “Is your underwear in the laundry?” he asked.

She cocked her head and narrowed her gaze. “Yes.”

He grinned that devastating smile that turned her heart over. “Then it’ll be fun.”

Chuckling, Ellie turned the doorknob. “Speaking of perverts,” she muttered.

Ellie squeaked when he slapped her ass.

Quinn had never had so much fun doing laundry. He’d needed the distraction in a big way. Hearing about Leo Frost had sent his blood pressure through the roof and the thought of Ellie being mauled by some nut-job made him sick to his stomach. The last thing he wanted to do was drive her away from him, so he started a list for her and kept his mouth shut.

Watching Ellie blush when he slung a pair of her thong underwear around his finger absolutely topped off his day. After the last load came out of the dryer, they walked from the laundry room back to her apartment. Stars twinkled overhead and scattered clouds chased the moon. The comfortable silence settled him. A sense of home grew in his heart. Apparently it didn’t matter what he did with Ellie as long as he was with her. How frickin’ weird was that?

Ellie puttered around the apartment, sorted the mail and got her equipment ready for the next day. Keeping his hands off her was getting harder by the minute. Every move she made, every flick of her head that sent her blond hair swaying against her back made him itch to touch her.

Finally, she came out of her bathroom wearing a long T-shirt that should’ve discouraged his libido. Instead it fired it up. All her soft curves filled out the cotton and the burning question in Quinn’s head was if she had on the thong he’d teased her with earlier. He’d already slid under the sheets, sans clothes, more than ready to rock and roll.

After shutting the light, she slid into bed and rolled onto her side. Away from him. “Good night,” she said, glancing over her shoulder.

Was she kidding? He was sitting there, hard as stone, and she wanted to sleep?

Her shoulders shook and laughter bubbled from her side of the bed. “I can only imagine the look on your face,” she said, through bursts of giggles.

A wave of emotions hit Quinn. Relief. Fulfillment. A sense of being home. She mattered to him. So much so that he didn’t know what to do with the knowledge.

Ellie rolled over before he had a chance to pounce. She stared up at him, her eyes sparkling like dark gems in the moonlight filtering through the window. “Gotcha.”

Quinn moved lightning fast and covered her with his body, sliding his hand under her T-shirt and stroking all that smooth skin. “Who’s got who?” he whispered in her ear. His lips trailed across her jaw. His hand glided over her hip. Her bare hip. A fresh surge of lust exploded in his gut and his dick took a big leap forward.

“Quinn,” she whispered, her breath already coming in short sexy gasps. “This has to be fast. I need to go sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

“Fast,” he echoed in her ear. He reached for the condom he’d gotten into bed with and rolled it on before resuming his position on top of Ellie. Making her come fast didn’t mean
he
had to go fast. He took her lips in a thorough kiss, sweeping his tongue in her mouth and his fingers through her silky hair. She tasted toothpaste-fresh.

She tasted of every hope and dream he’d ever wished for. She was warmth and promise all wrapped up in a strawberry-scented package just for him. Opening her legs only for him. What a turn-on.

Slowly he inched inside her and the purr in the back of her throat sent his heart thumping harder. Clasping him so tightly, she made every time like the first time. All of her wet heat surrounded him, drew him in and made him even harder.

Resting on his elbows, he trailed his lips along her cheek and the sensitive part of her ear. “I love this part,” he whispered. “The first time I slide inside you.” She wanted fast and he knew how to get her there.

She arched against him harder, drove him farther into her and the sensation tightened his balls. Electricity flashed from his fingers to his toes. Nothing compared to being inside this woman. He wanted to give her everything he had, wanted to hear his name on her lips and feel her body clench around him.

“You know what I dreamed of the first weekend after we met?” he asked.

“Is it something we have to talk about right now?” She kissed him, ran her fingers through his hair and ramped up his need.

When she pulled away, he chuckled. “No, but I think you’d like it.” He slid out of her and slowly moved back in, controlling the urge to take her hard. “I dreamed about having you.” He stared into her dark eyes. “I’d look around the hotel room and picture you everywhere. Naked. With me.”

She moaned as he kept a rhythm in and out. Pressing hard at the very end of his thrust—the way she liked it—he fought back his own release.

“Oh yeah,” he whispered. “You feel so good. So hot. Tight.” He tickled her ear with his tongue. “It’s such a turn-on when you’re so wet.”

“Shut up already or I’ll come,” she panted.

“I thought you wanted fast?” He nipped her earlobe.

“Not
that
fast.”

He didn’t care. He liked making her crazy. Loved that he could get her just as hot with his words as with his body. “I dreamed about taking you up against a wall,” he told her, upping the pace. “On the dresser, on the table and in the shower.”

“Did that one,” she huffed and he nearly laughed.

“I wanted you bent over in front of me, and—”

“That too.”

“—under me. I thought about you riding me in the tub, and in my bed.” God, it was getting harder to concentrate as she locked her legs around his hips and met him thrust for thrust. “I thought about you over me. How fucking sexy you’d be and how good it’d feel to touch you all over.” Already a sheen of sweat covered both of them and Quinn kept thrusting, moving into her with deep, sure strokes. “I dreamed about you going down on me. Your hot mouth taking me in, sucking me—”

She cried out and climaxed beneath him. The clench of her muscles sent him over the edge the way it usually did. He had so little control when it came to Ellie. His orgasm exploded in a hot rush, every pulse a pleasure ride to heaven. The sensation so intense that every muscle strained taut until his whole body felt drained and weak.

Breathing hard, Ellie slid her fingers along his scalp and positioned his face to kiss his lips. The lady kissed him like no other. As if she threw her whole soul into the act. Her tongue stroked his in a sweet, sinful dance and the moment crystallized in his head. Perfect.

When Quinn finally moved away, she sighed. Her luminous eyes smiled at him as she stroked his cheek. “One of these days we’re going to have to do that without you talking to me.”

“Why?”

“Because I just want to feel you.” She moved against him in a languorous stretch. “I can’t concentrate on feeling you when I’m listening to you.”

With a last kiss, Quinn disposed of the condom and got back into bed. Curled up near his pillow, Ellie had a smile on her face even though her eyes were nearly closed. “I like that I can put that there,” he said, sliding under the sheets.

She cuddled close and lifted one brow. “Put what where?” No mistaking the innuendo in her voice.

“Your mind is in the gutter, girl,” he said, but he liked it. “I was talking about your smile.”

“Mmm.
That.
” She sighed and her lashes fluttered against his chest.

He stroked his fingers down her arm and soaked up the moment. Where was the urge to run? What was it about her that totally fascinated him? It went beyond sex, beyond her body. He loved her independence, her sense of humor. He’d never dated a woman who hadn’t been focused on his fortune instead of him.

Her cell phone rang and Ellie sat up. “I hate phone calls after ten,” she said, grabbing her skimpy robe at the foot of the bed. “It can’t be good.” She snagged her phone out of its charger and answered as she slipped on the robe. Her relief came out in a sigh. “Hi, Teri, what’s up?” She listened then crinkled her nose. “Really? Bummer. Poor you. You get to call everyone with the good news, huh?” Ellie laughed, a sweet sexy sound that made Quinn smile, but her joy disappeared as she glanced at him. “Oh, God, it was so not what I expected. How’d you know we were going?” She nodded. “Right. You were right there. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. See you sooner than later.” She flipped the phone closed and stuck it back in the charger. “My call time just got moved up one hour. I have to be in makeup at six instead of seven.” She moved to the bed and froze as something very clearly occurred to her.

“What. What’s wrong?”

“I think I just figured out what’s been bothering me about this whole thing,”

“What whole thing? What’s wrong?”

She faced him, eyes wide, hand over her heart. “Do you remember the conversation we had Saturday morning before we left for Barstow?” She knelt next to him on the bed, her excitement palpable.

Yesterday morning? They’d talked about everything yesterday. He shook his head. “What conversation? When?”

“Standing at the car. You looked in the Honda and saw it was a standard transmission.
You
were supposed to drive her car on Saturday. Not me.” She stared at him as if waiting for him to grasp her meaning. “No one messed with the car until Friday night, remember? The seat belt worked on Friday when I came home. Someone messed with it Friday night.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So on the set, you said you didn’t want to drive my car because it was a classic, remember? There were two dozen extras around that day. Teri just asked how the trip went.”

“Oh, Jesus.” Quinn sat up too. “Maybe you’re on to something.”

She looked at him with eyes wide in concern. “You joked the other day that Mac was the only one you’d pissed off. But there are other people in town who know you. Is there anyone who wants to hurt you?”

Aaron Gerhardt’s name flashed in Quinn’s head like a bright marquee. He hadn’t thought of it before. What if Gerhardt planned on getting Quinn out of the way so Mac would sell the company to him? Gerhardt was dirty enough to think about it. And do it.

But hadn’t Hank told him that Gerhardt had left town already? What if the man had changed his plans? That wasn’t impossible. Gerhardt could still be here.

“Maybe it’s my turn to make a list,” Quinn said, easing back against the headboard with an arm around Ellie. His heart thudded harder. “C’mon. Let’s go to sleep. We’ll talk it about it tomorrow.” The last thing he wanted to do was scare Ellie when she needed sleep.

Ellie’s warmth gave Quinn a sense of well-being. Even if she was on to something and Quinn was the target, he didn’t want to think about it now. Right now he wanted to soak in her scent. Her presence. The ends of her blond hair slipped through his fingers as he played with it along her back.

“That tickles,” she murmured.

“Sorry.” He pulled her close and stared at the ceiling. Was Aaron Gerhardt really trying to kill him?

He sat in his hotel room…pounded down the last of his whiskey. How had it happened? How could Reynolds still be alive? Anger swept through him, raw and vicious as he slammed the glass against the floor. The damn thing didn’t break. It just bounced on the thick carpet. He wanted to break something. He paced the room, feeling caged in, cornered. His source had been sure, promised that Reynolds would be driving the Honda. There’s no way Reynolds would’ve been walking without a scratch if he’d been in that heap of a car. He’d seen it himself. He’d kept a low profile in the lobby, but he’d seen Reynolds and that blonde walk in. Someone had called on her cell phone and Quinn had been visibly upset. Something was up.

Clearly it was time for a more direct approach. He’d have rather kept his distance, but the longer this game played on, the more antsy he got. He couldn’t take the chance…couldn’t lose this shot at FRD. The longer Reynolds stayed alive, the bigger his risk at losing the company.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t done it before, but Densmore had been a pushover. The man might have been a mechanical engineering genius, but he had no survival instincts whatsoever. The same couldn’t be said about Reynolds. He was younger, smarter and bigger than Densmore.

Not that those traits scared him off. Hell no. He should’ve taken them out that night on the beach, but another couple had been strolling too close and he couldn’t risk having witnesses.

He had an itch to get it over with now. To find Reynolds and be done with him, but if he’d learned anything over the years, it was patience. He’d amassed a fortune as FRD wallowed in the middle of the pack. But the change about to happen was too big to ignore.

The company would be his.

Taking out Reynolds would be his pleasure.

He grabbed his jacket on his way out the door. He had a loose end to snip.

The next morning, riding shotgun with Ellie driving her Mustang, Quinn tried to figure out who, besides Gerhardt, might want him dead. He’d been thinking about it all night. It seemed unreal. What if his accident six months ago hadn’t really been an accident? Quinn nixed the idea. That would’ve made it a suicide mission and the woman who had died had way too much to live for. A husband, two kids. His stomach turned just thinking about it.

Ellie had called the detectives earlier from her apartment and relayed the new possibilities. In turn, they requested a list of all the people in the vicinity of their conversation that past Friday. Ellie had to track down the AD who had to find the paperwork. Quinn started a list of potential unfriendlies. It was not short. During his two years in charge at Formula Racing Design, he’d fired a man and in doing so had alienated a group of coworkers who’d staged a week-long walkout in protest. A few of them, he suspected, still held a grudge. But enough to kill?

Liam Murphy might want him dead since he actually lost his job, but Quinn couldn’t ignore the evidence of the man’s guilt and selling company secrets was a definite no-no. But why would Liam take so long to retaliate? That didn’t make much sense.

Then there was Hank. He was pissed that he didn’t get the promotion to head the new engine design. Though Hank had a top-notch brain, he seemed one step behind. Quinn had wanted someone fresh, with new ideas and cutting edge concepts. Kurt Densmore had accomplished exactly what Quinn wanted. Even Hank had agreed the new engine casing was state of the art. But again, why wait so long to retaliate? Hank had taken over the division when Kurt had disappeared. Imagining Hank as a killer was a like imagining Oprah robbing a bank with an AK-47.

Quinn’s list grew slowly as he sat in a director’s chair at video village and waited for Ellie to finish in the makeup trailer. The day’s shooting took place at a lake north of Los Angeles. All the trailers, trucks and equipment had been waiting this morning as if they’d been there for weeks. Clouds obstructed the sun and created a reflective glare bright enough to make Quinn adjust his shades.

His phone rang.

“Reynolds!” George Brant’s voice boomed over the line. “You should’ve seen me on the golf course this weekend. I smoked the competition. Sorry it took so long to get back to you. I was out of town and came back to eight million messages. So what’s up? You gonna sell me FRD?”

Quinn pictured the big, burly man behind his desk. He admired a straight shooter. Of all the companies that might’ve been in the position to acquire FRD, Brant Racing was Quinn’s top choice. Not only because it had the next highest offer, but because Brant would treat the employees right.

“Hey, George. Thanks for calling me back.” Quinn ran a hand through his hair. “Unfortunately, I can’t give you an answer yet. Actually, I called because I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Shoot.”

“What happened between you and Hank Gallus at Purdue?”

George stayed silent on his end of the phone. Then he sighed. “Now…the way you phrased that question is very interesting to me, Reynolds. What happened between Hank and me at Purdue? I can actually answer that.”

Quinn didn’t understand George’s hesitation or the odd way he repeated the question. “Okay. Great.”

“Nothing happened at Purdue. We met there and we became friends. The best of friends, so I thought.”

“I don’t understand. That’s not what Hank said.”

George laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised by anything Hank said. Not anymore.”

“What does that mean?” Quinn asked. He’d just entered the twilight zone.

“I wish I could tell you, but I can’t.” George said, all business. “I’m bound by a gag order.”

“A gag order? What the hell—”

“Does Hank know you’re speaking to me?” George asked.

“No. I told him I’d give you a call and talk about him staying on if you bought the company and he told me not to bother. He said you hate hearing his name as much as he hates hearing yours.”

George laughed, but it was forced. “Yeah. He got that part right.”

“Then it’s true. If you bought FRD you wouldn’t keep Hank?”

“Not even if you paid me money to take the company off your hands,” George said. “I wish I could help you, but if you want information on Hank you’ll have to find it another way.”

Quinn hated the secrecy. Hank had been with FRD for almost twenty years. He’d moved up to the top, a great guy, hardworking… What the hell had happened between Brant and him to cause such bad blood? Quinn rubbed the bridge of his nose. “All right. No offense, but thanks for nothing.” He heard Brant’s chuckle. “I’ll give you a call back when I have some good news about FRD.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” George disconnected.

Quinn stared at the screen as it went black. “Shit.”

“Shit, what?”

Quinn jumped when Ellie spoke into his ear from behind him. She looked exactly like Julie Frazer. The transformation amazed him every time. But he took a breath and she still smelled like Ellie. Even with a wig on, he caught her strawberry scent.

“Nothing,” he said, pocketing his phone. “Just business.” Business that now required him to hire a private investigator. Fuck. He needed to call Hank too, and see if he had anything to add to George’s comments.

“I have to head over,” she said pointing toward the cars. “Walk with me.” As they headed toward Ellie’s boss, Mark, a hot breeze blew the dark strands of her wig. “I’ve been thinking, maybe this Gerhardt guy paid one of the extras to get information,” she said, taking up from where they’d left off earlier.

“Possibly.” He looked out over the crystal blue lake. “Or one of the extras wasn’t really an extra, but a plant.” The man worked internationally, so six degrees of separation and a few phone calls could give him ears just about anywhere. “Gerhardt knows a lot of people.”

“Elle, we’re ready for you,” Mark called, waving her over as he stood next to the silver Toyota they were using for the shot.

“Hold that thought. I have to do this. See you in a bit.” She headed off.

Thoughts of Gerhardt disappeared as she walked away. Quinn hadn’t been able to eat breakfast knowing that Ellie had a stunt to do, but apparently that didn’t matter because his stomach roiled and he thought he might puke anyway. Especially when he caught sight of the other two identical Toyotas waiting in the wings. He’d been around long enough to know that those cars were on standby in case they needed to do the shot again. That meant Ellie might have to go in the lake more than once.

Swallowing back bile, Quinn counted five camera setups along the lake. That didn’t include the two cameras in the car designed for underwater shots.

He hated moviemaking. Most especially now. A week ago, he hated the monotony. Now he hated the risk. He’d never watch another action-adventure film with the same perspective. And he’d never quit worrying about Ellie when she worked.

Ellie waved out the window as Brett took the car farther down the road so they could turn around and reach the pier at top speed. A helicopter’s blades whipped up dust and scattered dry leaves, a camera perched on the outside runner. Ellie had told him someone operated the camera from inside the helicopter. He wished someone could’ve operated the car from
outside.

The Toyota found its mark and turned around. The revving engine added to the noise of the chopper overhead and spiked Quinn’s blood pressure. Familiar shouts of, “Rolling, speed and action!” sounded in the warm cloudy day.

Brett didn’t bother starting slowly. He peeled out, burning rubber and making the tires squeal. Quinn flinched at the sound.

By this point in the movie the windshield had been cracked, so visibility into the car and from inside the car was nearly zero. Quinn couldn’t see Ellie and she most likely couldn’t see anything.

In seconds, the car hit the pier and was airborne. The eerie silence was broken only by the whir of the helicopter overhead. The car nosedived into the water, the windshield shattering into a million pieces.

Quinn’s heart thumped so hard, he wasn’t sure it would stay behind his ribs.

The car disappeared under water with a flood of bubbles and Quinn held his breath. He kept holding his breath. The water began to still as Brett surfaced and gasped for air, flipping his hair out of his face and looking around. Then he dove under. Something inside Quinn snapped. He couldn’t deal with the uncertainty. His heart screamed for Ellie. Taking a step forward, his stomach clenched tight, he didn’t care if he ruined the shot. If he didn’t see Ellie in the next two seconds, he was diving in the water to pull her up himself.

Brett surfaced again. This time he had Ellie in a lifeguard’s hold, pulling her to shore with an arm across her shoulders and her head above water, her body limp and lifeless.

“It’s the scene, it’s the scene,” Quinn mumbled aloud. He ignored the slice of fear that raced through him. They were acting out the scene until the director yelled cut. But what if Ellie really was unconscious? What if…

Brett got to the edge and heaved Ellie to the shore, water sheeting off both of them. He listened for her breathing, adjusted her head and pressed his mouth against hers. CPR. Quinn knew it was the scene, but his panic mixed with a wave of jealousy that had him fighting for air. Brett locked his fingers and set his palms against Ellie’s chest.

“Cut!” the director called.

Brett leaned toward her and said something. Then he laughed and she opened her eyes and laughed too.

Quinn’s relief nearly brought him to his knees. He dropped his chin to his chest and exhaled long and slow.

Someone slapped his back. “She’s fine. Why you getting all worked up?” Mac.

The answers jumped into Quinn’s brain with surprising clarity. He wanted her safe. He needed her alive and all to himself. The idea of losing her didn’t compute in his brain. He’d known her all of two weeks, but she’d carved herself a place in his life. “I really want to punch the grin off your face,” he said instead. For more reasons than one.

Shaking his head, Mac smirked. “Hey, I’ve been there.” He pointed over his shoulder. “Remember. I’m the one who lived it, so I know what it feels like for real. Elle wasn’t down there half as long as Trace was. She was never in danger, Quinn. Everybody here takes time doing the job right and they take pride in it too.”

By the time Quinn turned back to Ellie, she was off the ground and wrapped in a blanket. He caught her gaze and she smiled and waved.

And his heart lurched.

“We’re still talking later, right?” Mac asked.

Quinn blinked and focused on his brother. “Yeah. This afternoon. I’ll meet you in your trailer.” Talking about business reminded him of his call with Brant. “Hey, Mac, does Trace have that number of the private investigator Chelsea used a couple years ago?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll ask her. If she doesn’t have it, Chelsea will. Why do you need a P.I.?” Mac asked.

He wasn’t ready to tell Mac about Hank, especially since he didn’t know what exactly he was looking for. Until he had all the facts, he’d keep the investigation to himself. Of course if he was hiring a P.I., he could have Leo Frost checked out more thoroughly too. Why the hell not?

“Hello? Quinn?” Mac waved his hand in front of Quinn’s face. “Why do you need a P.I.?”

“I didn’t tell you, but Elle had an accident Saturday. Totaled Ashley’s Honda. Turns out the car had been tampered with. Between the scaffolding accident and the car accident, we think someone’s out to do major damage and we’re not sure who. I want to hire somebody to check out a few people.”

“Shit,” Mac said. “What are the police telling you?”

“They want a list of anyone who might hold a grudge.” No reason to tell him they wanted the list from him. Knowing Mac, he’d either roll his eyes and say, “grow up” or he’d go all big brother protective.

Mac nodded. “I’d ask if Elle’s okay, but obviously she is. I’ll have Tracey get the number from Chelsea. Be careful.”

Leaving his brother, Quinn found Ellie in the makeup trailer, getting a fresh wig and new makeup. She grinned at him through the mirror.

“Did you hear the news?” She flicked her eyes heavenward. “Gordon wants to do the shot again to switch some camera angles. One more douse in the lake. I swear he’s just doing it to torture Brett and me.”

And me
. But Quinn didn’t say it aloud. “You okay?”

She looked completely relaxed and focused as she nodded. “I’m fine. That was easy. All I had to do was hold my breath until Brett came back. Piece of cake.”

Quinn took her hand and squeezed. She held tight and smiled at him, her green eyes mesmerizing, her dimple fascinating. He was in too deep. He knew it in that instant. Holding her hand, staring into her eyes. He loved her. Nothing mattered but her. Nothing mattered except the way she smiled at him and laughed with him. He wanted to keep her safe for as long as he possibly could. The rest of her life. The rest of his life. Jesus. How the hell had this happened?

She tightened her grip on his hand. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Quinn shook his head. “Nothing.” He couldn’t really tell her in a trailer full of strangers that he loved her, could he? Jesus, he loved her. What a concept. “I was just worried about you.”

A PA opened the trailer door and handed a note to Quinn. It was the private investigator’s name and number in Mac’s neat handwriting. Quinn had to admit that once in a while his brother came through.

“I need to make a call. I’ll catch you later.” He gave Ellie a peck on the cheek. He’d save his news for tonight when they were alone.

In the late afternoon, hours after the second dip in the lake, Julie and Leo were filming the scene on the lake’s edge. Ellie heard raised voices coming from Trace and Mac’s trailer. Quinn’s voice in particular carried in the still day.

Though he’d played it cool earlier, she’d felt his worry and it touched her. He obviously cared about her, but she wouldn’t fool herself into thinking what they shared would go beyond the time he stayed in Los Angeles.

He would leave the day after tomorrow. The thought was crushing. But she wouldn’t have changed a minute of her time with him. He was just as gentle as he was fierce. A mix of man so sweet and possessive and protective that he made her smile and made her heart ache at the same time.