Double Take. Leigh Riker

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СКАЧАТЬ he’d stay nearby tonight, make friends with her doorman rather than Emerald’s, but she wondered whether because of his medical leave he even had any official part in the investigation. It didn’t seem so. Yet despite the irritation he always caused, she felt that stubborn, slow tingle of need run down her spine.

      “You’re okay with this?” He nodded at Cameron then at Kyle.

      “I’m…okay.”

      He studied her for a long moment before glancing at her brother again. “Then do what he says.”

      “Why don’t you stay awhile longer—and deputize him?”

      Ransom’s mouth twitched. “Cute, Cameron. Very cute.”

      When the door closed behind him, she leaned back in Kyle’s arms. But the lingering buzz Ransom caused in her veins, through her entire body, didn’t cool. “That man makes my blood steam.”

      Kyle surprised her by saying, “I think you make his blood steam, too.”

      She flushed. “I didn’t mean…attraction.”

      He frowned. “Well, he does.”

      She made her voice flippant. “Oh. Is that why he stalks me everywhere?”

      “From now on, kid, I’m your stalker.”

      She smiled up at him, but Kyle’s eyes stayed serious and Cameron’s niggling distrust of his surprise appearance tonight remained. “I’m not making light of Destina,” she tried to assure him. “Come into the kitchen. I’ll fix us both some cocoa before you go. Ransom tends to be a bit obsessed. I’d rather move on with my life. Our lives.”

      “It’s a nice idea, Cam.”

      As if he didn’t believe that was possible yet either.

      With her confused emotions still running high, her awareness of Ransom and the anger he made her feel and her wariness of himself on his mind, Kyle started for the kitchen. But he paused to retrieve from the chair the small package he’d brought with him.

      “Here. Open this. It’s for you.” He urged her fingers to the string that tied it closed. “Something from another time,” he added. “A peace offering.”

      When she pulled off the paper, tangling with the string, an object fell out and thudded to the floor. Cameron picked it up and her heart melted.

      “Oh, Kyle.” In a flash she recognized the soft-bodied doll from her childhood—the treasured doll she’d had to leave behind when her family entered Witness Protection. Along with everything else, her favorite toy had been abandoned. Nothing, absolutely nothing, had made that first move except her mother, her father, Kyle and Cameron.

      Her throat tightened. Cameron cradled the doll, feeling a slight stiffness here and there. It must have been left in the rain at some point, then dried. The doll looked dirty and worn—apparently well loved—but its button eyes brightly stared up at her as they had done so often at night before she fell asleep. At three years old, on the verge of having her world destroyed, she’d clutched that doll for a final time like a talisman against the dark that would soon engulf her. Now she had a piece of her life back again.

      “Where did you find this?”

      “At Gram’s.” After leaving the program—before he’d vanished without a trace—Kyle had gone to live with their maternal grandmother until he finished school. Like their mother and James, Gram was dead now. But she’d saved this doll for Cameron. All those years.

      Kyle had guessed at its significance to her. She didn’t know what to say now except, “Thank you,” which seemed so inadequate.

      Kyle shrugged. “I knew you’d appreciate the memento from our childhood. All I remember is getting uprooted and living where I didn’t want to go, always lying about who I was.”

      Like their names, she thought. She wasn’t ready to forgive Kyle. But at least now she had the chance to rebuild what they’d lost.

      “WHY WOULD YOU choose not to?” Emerald said in a strident tone late the next afternoon. “How could you refuse?”

      She didn’t mean Kyle, and Cameron felt her first reaction—a simple no—take flight. She surveyed the pile of evening gowns on Emerald’s wide bed and tried not to stare. Black velvet, bronze satin, red silk…they must be worth more money than Cameron’s entire wardrobe—mostly practical pants and shirts—several times over.

      Emerald’s hands fluttered over the obviously expensive fabrics. And again, Cameron thought how nervous she seemed. Last night’s phone call must still be bothering her. Why else had she made such an outrageous suggestion?

      She didn’t really have a choice, Cameron realized. If she wanted to keep her job here, if she wanted to talk her way into other clients through Emerald, she would have to do as Emerald asked. No, demanded.

      “Stand in for you?” she said. “Me?” Determined to decide her own fate, she tried to back out. “I realize we’re the same height and build, more or less, but…”

      Irritation edged Emerald’s tone. “It’s only for one night.” She ripped another dress from a hanger in her closet. Dark green watered silk flowed onto the bed and drank up the soft light from the bedside lamp. Once more she ran through the scenario. “You’ll come to the hotel just before the Zeus reception ends. We’ll trade clothes there in my dressing room. Then I disappear in your jeans while you take my place in the evening dress I wore to the reception. You climb into my limousine for the ride home and wave to the press through the tinted windows. No one will actually see you except getting in and getting out of the car. You’ll wear my coat, which has a hood to hide your face. Now, is that so hard?”

      Emerald dashed back to the walk-in closet and came out with a suitcase. She threw in lingerie, shoes, pants and blouses. They didn’t match but Emerald didn’t seem to care. She seemed intent upon one thing now—leaving town.

      At a sharp rap on the open door, Emerald jerked around. She clutched a pair of designer jeans in both hands, her knuckles white. Her features didn’t relax but faint relief sounded in her voice when she recognized her personal trainer, a huge, barrel-chested man, lounging in the doorway.

      “Ron. I thought we had finished for the day.”

      “Torture’s over but I wondered about my pay.”

      “Grace will write a check, you know that. See her.”

      Uh-oh, Cameron thought. More trouble. Ron’s frown and the hard look in his eyes sent a chill down her spine. Turning her back, Emerald dropped the jeans then rearranged the gowns on the bed.

      “Grace had a headache.” Ron straightened, his gaze raking Emerald. “Probably from one of your browbeatings. She went home.”

      “Then she’ll pay you tomorrow.”

      “This isn’t the first time I’ve been put off.” He glanced at Cameron, who felt decidedly uncomfortable being in the middle of their quarrel. “You have no idea what you’re in for,” he told her. “Greer’s up to her pretty ears in unpaid bills. Her staff’s income is the last to be dealt with, which I’m sure you’ll learn.”

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