Fools Rush In (7 page)

The Continental sat diagonally across the road at a protective angle in front of the mangled Chevy, its headlights bouncing off the wall of rock and casting a yellow glow several yards in all directions. Muscle by muscle, Erin's body grew tense, her eyes widening. She straightened and stared down the road in fascinated horror.

They had come to a stop not more than thirty feet from the hairpin curve.

A clammy coldness gripped her. She began to shake. Erin drew a deep breath and tucked her free arm tightly around her rib cage, but the violent tremors continued, and her teeth began to chatter.

Max's head jerked up. "What—" He stopped when he saw her stricken look. Following the direction of her gaze, he glanced over his shoulder and frowned.

"Don't think about it. It's over." He snapped the first-aid kit closed and shoved it back under the seat.

He stood and, with brisk efficiency, swung her legs into the car, then stripped off his jacket and tucked it around her. Erin tried to protest, but he wouldn't listen.

"Hush, now. You've had a shock, and you need this more than I do." Reaching across her, he flicked on the heater. As he pulled back he paused and stared at her chalky face. Slowly, he ran the backs of his knuckles over her cheek and smiled. "Now then, you sit tight. I'll only be a minute."

Before Erin could reply he backed out of the car and slammed the door.

In moments he returned. "I put the keys in your purse," he told her, tossing the leather bag and her suitcase into the back seat.

The silver car was caved in all along the driver's side, and it took several hard yanks to get the door open. When he finally succeeded and slid in behind the wheel, Erin rolled her head on the seat and looked at him, her expression regretful. "Oh, Max, your beautiful car. It's ruined."

"Don't worry about it. A car can be fixed. Or replaced. The important thing is that you're safe."

"For now, anyway."

Max's hand halted in midair halfway to the gearshift, and his head snapped around. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Erin huddled beneath the jacket, pulling it up tightly against her chin. Above the charcoal suede her face was a pale oval, her eyes dark and haunted. "Surely now you believe that Elise is in danger?"

"Oh, come on, Erin. Don't tell me you're still sticking to that crazy story.''

"Yes. Because it's true. After what just happened, I don't know how you can doubt it."

"Why? Just because your brakes failed?" Max gave a surprised little laugh and shook his head. "Look, Erin, you're upset. Overwrought. It was a freak accident, that's all. These things happen."

"No! No, it wasn't an accident. Don't you see? Someone saw me arrive and mistook me for Elise, just as you did, and sometime today they sabotaged the car."

"You mean while it was parked in the Global lot?" Max asked, incredulous.

"Yes. That's exactly what I mean. Someone there is trying to kill my sister."

Max sighed and raked a hand through his hair, "Look, Erin... this is crazy. No one would—"

"Max, the brakes on that car were working perfectly when I arrived this afternoon."

The insistent tone of her voice stopped him, and he stared at her, his expression a mixture of exasperation and understanding. She returned the look steadily, willing him to believe her.

For an instant Erin thought she saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes, but then it was gone.

"All right. I'll concede that maybe, just maybe, Elise did see something, or at least thought she saw something, and took off in a panic. Given that, and what just happened, it's understandable that you're feeling a bit spooked, but believe me, you have nothing to fear. There's nothing clandestine or sinister going on at Global. And to set your mind at ease, I'm going to prove it to you."

He pulled a cellular telephone from beneath the dash and punched out a series of numbers.

"What are you doing?"

"You'll see." When she started to speak again he silenced her with a raised hand.

"Charlie? Max Delany," he said into the receiver. "Listen, Charlie, the brakes on Mrs. Holman's car failed, and it's wrecked about a mile down the road from the warehouse." He paused, listening. "No, no one was hurt, but I want you to tow the car into the shop and check it over for me. Yes, right away. And when you've found what caused the problem, call me back immediately."

"Are you crazy?" Erin demanded when he hung up the phone. "I just told you. Someone at Global is trying to kill Elise. It could be the man you were just talking to."

"Erin, for Pete's sake! Charlie has been our chief mechanic since I started the business twelve years ago. Before that he worked for my father. I've known him since I was a kid, and I'd trust him with my life."

"Fine. You do that. But I don't trust him with mine. Until I know what's going on, I don't trust anyone connected with your company."

"Not even me?"

The softly worded question brought her up short. Erin's eyes widened, and she gazed at him, conscience-stricken. "Oh, Max, I'm sorry. You saved my life, and I haven't even thanked you. Please forgive—"

"Shh." He placed two fingers over her lips to stop the flow of words. "I wasn't asking for thanks. What I want to know is, do you trust me?"

"I..." A niggling doubt lingered still, all mixed up with guilt and gratitude. Erin nibbled on the tip of her index finger and met his steady look with uncertainty.

For heaven's sake! The man saved your life,
her conscience prodded.
You're being paranoid. And a prize in-grate to boot. If it hadn't been for Max, by now you'd be just a charred lump at the foot of the mountain.

"I... I'm sorry, Max. Of course I trust you," she said finally, pushing aside her uneasiness.

Max's mouth quirked in a lopsided smile that held a touch of sadness. Very slowly, he trailed his knuckles down her cheek.

Another tremor rippled through Erin, and she shivered beneath the suede jacket, clutching it more closely to her. As though the brush with death had shocked her system into a heightened awareness of her circumstances, she was acutely conscious of every minute detail, her senses tingling with a keen sensitivity. The softness of the night, the quiet darkness that surrounded them, were palpable things. Through the cushioned seat, her body absorbed the rumbling idling of the car's powerful engine. Against her cheek, she could feel the crisp hairs on the back of Max's hand, and with every breath she smelled the sharp, enticing masculine tang of his skin.

"Now I wonder why I get the feeling that statement lacks conviction," Max mused, watching her.

"I...that is— "

His fingers slid beneath her chin and tilted it up. His thumb gently brushed the fullness of her lower lip. "Never mind. I suppose that, after what you just went through, you're entitled to a few doubts."

Releasing her, he straightened and put the car in gear. With care, he pulled away from the wrecked Chevy. "Anyway, when Charlie calls you'll realize that there's no reason to mistrust anyone. By morning this whole episode will be just a bad memory. But in the meantime, what you need is a stiff shot of brandy and bed." Max glanced at her and cocked one brow. "I suppose you'd object to spending the night at my place?"

Erin shot him a dry look. "You suppose right. I'm sure I'd rest a lot easier at Elise's apartment, if you don't mind."

"Ah, I see. You trust me with your life but not with your delectable body. Is that it?"

"How perceptive of you, Delany."

Max chuckled. "Just one of my many attributes. When you get to know me better you'll find I'm a terrific guy. Trustworthy. Perceptive. Sensitive. Kind. Witty. Intelligent. I'm also a good dancer, a scintillating dinner companion and, so I've been told—" he paused to slant her a devilish look, and his voice dropped to a husky murmur "—a fantastic lover."

"Hmm. Don't forget modest."

"That, too."

Erin faced forward again and gazed out the windshield, fighting back a grin. She was no longer shivering. Miraculously, the teasing banter had lightened the mood and calmed her overwrought nerves. Erin wondered if that had been Max's intention.

A short distance down the road they passed a truck going in the opposite direction. Max honked and waved, and the driver returned the salute.

"That was Charlie. It shouldn't take him long to go over the brake system. We'll probably be hearing from him within an hour."

Erin slanted Max a skeptical look, but this time she said nothing.

At the bottom of the mountain road Max paused before turning onto the highway. "Which way?"

Surprised, Erin looked at him. "You don't know?"

In answer, Max gave a sigh and drummed his fingers on the wheel. "No, I don't know," he said with exaggerated patience. "I told you, my relationship with your sister is a business one. Nothing more. I've never been to her apartment, and I've certainly never been out with her."

Narrowing her eyes, Erin tipped her head to one side. "What about the times you've taken her to dinner? According to Elise's last letter, you took her to a nice restaurant just a couple of weeks ago."

"She wrote to you about that?" Max looked taken aback.

"Among other things."

"But that was just my way of thanking her for working late," he insisted. "Two, maybe three times in the past few months we've had a rush order or a problem of some kind, and she worked straight through until after eight without a complaint. So...to show my gratitude, I bought her a meal and sent her home in a taxi. That was all there was to it. Hell, I don't even remember what we talked about."

Erin gnawed the inside of her cheek and studied him. Either he was an excellent actor, or he was telling the truth. Either way, her heart ached for her twin.

Dear Lord, she groaned inwardly. Had Elise built up this whole romance in her mind out of nothing more substantial than wishful dreams and a few duty dinners?

It was possible. Her sister was a dreamer, an incurable romantic. And, in her gentle, sweet way, she could be frighteningly resolute and single-minded. Elise believed that if you wanted something badly enough and were patient enough, eventually it would be yours.

When she had set her cap for Tommy Holman, Erin recalled with an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, Elise had been a mere child, he a callow teenager.

Faced with Elise's serene implacability, their mother had gently explained that loving someone didn't guarantee that they would love you back. Erin herself had scoffed at the very idea of wanting to marry the creep next door. Even David, who had been Tommy's best friend, had tried to dissuade Elise.

Nothing had worked. Over the years Tommy, in the offhand, thoughtless way of young males, had teased and tormented Elise, unknowingly breaking her heart on those numerous occasions when he'd been besotted with other girls. But mostly he'd been oblivious to her. To him, she had just been one of the Blaine twins, one of those skinny, red-haired little pests who'd lived next door to him all his life.

Through it all, Erin's sister had remained steadfast in her devotion and had waited patiently for Tommy to notice her as a woman and realize that he couldn't live without her.

To everyone's shock, it had finally happened. When the twins had come home for spring break during their junior year in college, Tommy had taken one look at Elise's sweet smile and soft brown eyes and been instantly enslaved. During the entire two weeks he had followed her around, wearing an adoring, dazed look, and by the time the sisters returned to school Elise had a diamond engagement ring.

After that, nothing and no one could convince her that patience and wanting didn't make dreams come true.

Gazing at Max Delany's set face, Erin fervently hoped her suspicion was wrong. She had a gut feeling that, one way or another, her sister had set herself up for disillusionment and heartbreak if she had developed the same sort of romantic fixation on this man.

Then again, Erin thought, feeling guilty and disloyal, maybe the whole thing wasn't a romantic fantasy. Maybe Max had been stringing Elise along and was merely feigning innocence.

Even as her mind formed the thought, doubt came creeping in.

Impatient with herself and the whole situation, she shot Max a disgruntled look and snapped out terse directions to Elise's apartment. At this point it hardly mattered, Erin told herself, staring straight ahead in stiff silence. The important thing now was to find Elise.

When they reached the apartment complex Max insisted on seeing her to the door and carrying her bag. As Erin let them in with Elise's key, she frowned and tried to recall if she had locked the door before leaving that afternoon.

Reaching inside, she felt along the wall for the switch and flipped it on. Light flooded the room, and Erin stepped across the threshold, then came to an abrupt halt, sucking in her breath.

"Holy hell!" Max exclaimed behind her in a low, incredulous voice. "You weren't kidding when you said Elise left this place a mess."

Erin's heart began to thud, and her scalp crawled. The apartment was in shambles. Books littered the floor as though an impatient hand had swept them from the shelves flanking the fireplace. Every closet and cabinet door was open, the interiors in disarray. Empty drawers, the contents dumped on the floor along with the scattered books, lay strewn topsy-turvy everywhere.