Asking For It (7 page)

Now, listening to the water running in the shower on Thursday morning, Deirdre felt the same sick sinking in her stomach that she'd been feeling off and on since Tuesday night.

A dozen times during the last twenty-four hours she'd picked up the telephone, intending to call the police. But she didn't know what she would tell them. Was Griffith missing, or was she simply unable to get a hold of him? And wasn't there a waiting period before the police would call someone 'missing?'

Besides which, Deirdre could imagine a hundred excuses the man might have for being incommunicado, all the way from having absconded to Tahiti with the company payroll — highly unlikely — to keeping vigil over the birth of a secret baby — a distinct possibility. There were a hundred reasons he might not thank her for calling the police.

Deirdre worried her lower lip between her teeth. If only she knew contact information for his friends or relatives. She could find out if anybody else knew where he was. But, alas, she had no idea who was close to Griffith.

The water in the shower shut off. Deirdre's mind slipped from the problem of her missing boss to create an image of the masculine body in the bathroom rubbing a towel all over himself. An instant later, the door to the bathroom opened.

The figure of her imagination leaned naked and negligent in the doorway. "It's all yours."

The bathroom, he meant, Deirdre admonished herself, as her mouth went dry. "Uh...thanks."

He stopped towelling his straight black hair and walked toward her. "Want me to pick you up from work tonight?"

Deirdre's heart leapt. He wanted to see her again, so soon? That had to be a good sign, right? "Oh, yes. Sure." She struggled not to sound as needy as she felt. "That'd be great. Late, though. I've got...a lot to catch up on." From being Griffith's first lieutenant, she was suddenly running the whole show.

He dropped the towel over the back of Deirdre's desk chair and picked up his suit trousers. "Late works good for me." With smooth, economical movements, he put on his pants. "Before or after dinner?"

"Oh..."
Before, definitely before
. Deirdre craved as much time with him as she could get. But she would not sound needy. "After, I think. It's — " She blew out a breath. "Quite a week." To put it mildly. Heck, maybe she should call the police this morning. It had been over twenty-four hours. On the other hand, Griffith might kill her if she did.

"I'll say." With the same grace he'd put on his pants, he shrugged into one of the clean shirts he'd hung in her closet. He turned around and smiled at Deirdre as he fastened the buttons. "Something big going on at Blaine Development?"

You could say that
. Deirdre did her best to look nonchalant. "Oh, it's always crazy." But she longed to ask. The man across the room reaching for his tie was a lawyer, a hotshot one if his status at the big-name firm downtown was any sign. Did he think she should call the police? A private detective? Area hospitals?

Did that smile he was giving her as he fastened his tie mean the warmth and affection Deirdre hoped it did?

Deirdre wished she knew, because then she could ask his advice. Instead, asking him to tell her what to do seemed like...a test. If he really cared, he'd answer her with due concern. If he didn't, he'd brush the whole thing off as too much trouble.

Deirdre did not want to test him. Rather, she didn't want him to fail the test. She wasn't ready to have this end. Oh, but she liked him so much!

So she didn't say a word about her missing boss as her maybe-boyfriend, fully dressed now, crossed the room. Smiling, he put one hand on her shoulder and leaned down for what Deirdre assumed was going to be a goodbye kiss.

But his smile faded and he halted a few inches from her face. "Deirdre," he said. "Is something wrong?"

Oh, shit. Had something showed? Deirdre quickly summoned up the most carefree, un-needy smile she could manage. "What? No, nothing's wrong. I guess I was just...thinking. Planning my day, you know?" Like whether or not she would call the police today.

The face above her smiled back. Two warm, strong lips touched hers. "I'll see you later then, Deed."

"Yes, later," Deirdre told him, breathing in his clean male scent. "See you later, Ricky."

CHAPTER FIVE

Griffith lay on his back on the narrow cot, covered in both the army blanket and his fury. Meanwhile, dawn stole as a dull gray stain over the opposite wall.

He'd looked for a telephone. The night before, after Kate Darby had stomped off in what Griffith thought was a thoroughly unjustified huff, he'd wrapped the damn blanket around his hips and stalked the corridors of the camp building looking for a communication device.

He'd found one, too, only to discover when he picked up the old-fashioned receiver that there was no dial tone. The damn thing didn't work!

It was his understanding Camp Wild Hills was run on a shoestring, but this was ridiculous! Unsafe! She had — what? Fifty, sixty campers here? And no telephone? She ought to be reported.

Full of righteous indignation, Griffith had stomped back to the infirmary and paced the floor, his blood boiling. It was bad enough Kate had gotten all pissy about his erection. First of all, it hadn't been entirely his fault. She'd done her part in creating the thing. She had! Secondly, his indecent condition had only been exposed because he'd been trying to save her from cracking her head open.

Yes, all that was bad enough. But to leave him for the rest of the night without a telephone was beyond the bounds. It was outrageous.
Demonic
.

As Griffith paced, he fantasized the various ways he could kick Kate off the property. Escrow had closed. The land was his now, together with the rights to the water that flowed from it. True, Kate had a twenty-year lease on the land. Unless she didn't pay the rent, he couldn't renege on that.

But he didn't have to let her have any water. That wasn't written into the lease.

Nor did he plan to continue providing water to his tenant. A channel was going to be dug, diverting the stream to the other side of the mountain and directing it toward the Wildwood Housing development.

Kate didn't know that. Keeping the deal a secret from the tenant had been another condition of escrow. Griffith hadn't wanted any messy lawsuits delaying his project — lawsuits doomed to failure anyway.

But Kate was about to discover the truth — soon.

Pacing in the early hours, Griffith had grinned malevolently at the walls of the infirmary and planned exactly how he'd go about it. No notification. He'd just send the bulldozers up and Kate could have a fine old time trying to make them go away. She'd see her world crash in on her, all her stupid assumptions about using
his
water.

Now, lying in bed again, but awake and watching the dawn's gray, Griffith heard the knob on the door turn.

Griffith grabbed for his blanket — Kate Darby wasn't going to catch him naked again — and sat up. He tensed for battle.

But it wasn't Kate who walked through the door. Instead, the large man Griffith had seen in the dining hall entered. In his hands he carried Griffith's second favorite wish right then. Clothes.

"They'll be big," the man said, in the rusty voice of a chain smoker. He smiled. "But better'n a blanket."

"Agreed." Griffith reached for the T-shirt and chinos the other man held out. "Thanks. I'm Griffith Blaine, by the way."

"Arnie Meadowlark. And before you ask, yes, it is Native American, but I'm only part."

Griffith grinned. "Pleased to meet you." He hesitated half a second, then decided Arnie Meadowlark wasn't going to be as prudish as Kate Darby. He threw off the blanket and shook out the chinos. "I, uh, didn't intend to still be here this morning." He chuckled, doing his best to sound amused rather than infuriated as he stuck his leg into the pants. "But the telephones don't work."

"Ah." Arnie nodded. "Line went down last winter. Somewhere between here and Sagebrush Valley City. We've been battling the phone company ever since as to who's supposed to repair it."

'We,' huh
? Griffith stuck his other leg into the pants. Better to tread carefully here. Arnie appeared to have as possessive an interest in the place as Kate did. "I don't mean to be a buttinsky but isn't that, well, a bit of a hazard? What would you do if one of the campers got hurt?"

"Oh, we have a phone." Arnie nodded. "Kate does, anyway. You met Kate last night, right?" He paused, apparently waiting for an answer.

Griffith did his best to appear guileless. "Yeah, I met Kate."

"Uh huh. Thought that's what she said. Anyway, she's got one of those fancy-shmancy satellite deals. As long as you've got an eye in the sky, you got reception."

A satellite telephone. Perfect. Except for the fact that it belonged to Kate, who Griffith never wanted to see again. He fastened the waistband of the pants and gave Arnie a speculative look. "What about you? Could I borrow your cell?"

"Who, me?" Arnie looked both surprised and amused. "Oh, I don't carry."

Griffith hoped Arnie couldn't hear his teeth snap together. "You don't?"

"Nah, I don't really need a phone. Fact is, nobody is allowed to have a cell phone up here except for Kate."

Griffith gaped at him. "You're kidding."

"Nope. These kids come from all kinds of backgrounds, you understand. Some have...connections back home. We want to sever all of that. Make it just us, them, and nature. So...no phones."

"But the counselors — ?"

"Would have to watch their phones like hawks to make sure there wasn't, eh, unauthorized use. Besides, you can't get any reception here, not unless it's satellite."

Griffith could believe that much. It was fifteen miles to Sagebrush Valley City, and he doubted there was even a tower there. The nearest one was probably in Taft, seventy-five miles away.

And Kate had the only satellite phone.

"But no problem, right?" Arnie gave Griffith a strangely considering look. "You can just ask Kate to use her phone. No big deal."

Griffith tried to look serene as he crushed his teeth together. "Right." He reached for the T-shirt Arnie had brought. "I'll just ask Kate. No big deal."

~~~

When she'd left Griffith in the infirmary the night before, Kate had felt airily determined. In high dudgeon. He'd tried to manipulate her, to gain some sort of perverse power over her — but he wouldn't do it again.

However, in the bright light of morning, standing in front of her campers after breakfast on the dais of the dining room, Kate felt oddly thrown when Griffith walked in.

Maybe because he still looked injured? One eye was a mass of purple. That, plus a shirt that was three sizes too large for him gave Griffith a disreputable appearance. But it was probably his underlying arrogance that heightened his vague aura of danger. Watching him cross the room — and knowing her own plans — made Kate's heart race unsteadily. But she gave the morning's announcements. She maintained a façade of composure.

As part of the announcements, she gave the three teenage counselors, José, Tony, and Bill, their own groups of ten. She and Arnie would take the remaining twenty kids. Not ideal, but not illegal — technically, anyway — not with Blaine here.

How long was Blaine going to stay? Well, that all depended. How much nerve did she have?

Kate did her best to regulate her sped-up breathing. Yes, how fiercely was she willing to fight for her campers?

After she finished the announcements, the children started to disperse toward their assigned activities. Griffith Blaine came striding toward her.

He was no more dangerous than any other man, Kate assured herself. In fact, probably less so.

She made sure to meet his one open eye as he strode forward. Casually, she lifted her brows. It was difficult to read his expression but Kate had a good idea what he wanted to talk about. She breathed in and out slowly.

Thanks to a friend with DSL whom Kate had called early that morning, Kate had discovered Griffith Blaine headed a company called Blaine Development, some sort of real estate and property business. A big one. He had money, education, and power. He had everything the kids at camp didn't.

Now he came to a stop in front of her and appeared to consider how to play it. He came up with a sheepish grin. "'Morning there."

Sheepish, my foot. She doubted the man had a humble bone in his body. "Good morning." Kate smiled coolly.

"Uh..." His smile twisted to one side and he glanced down at his feet. "I hope you're not still upset about last night."

She continued to smile though an image of him, naked and aroused, flashed unpleasantly through her mind. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Huh." His one-sided smile faded.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, my campers are waiting."

She moved to walk around him, but he moved even faster, blocking her way. "Uh, just a minute."

Kate crossed her arms. How quickly he'd dropped the sheepish act. His tone was curt now, authoritative. Just as she'd suspected, he was utterly privileged, used to calling the shots.