Rare Breed. Connie Hall

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      Chapter 4

      Wynne gazed into Hellstrom’s face. For a nanosecond they stared at each other with a wrong-restroom look.

      Hellstrom recovered first and waited for an explanation.

      “Sorry, I—um, was looking for the party and somehow got lost.” Lame city. He’d never buy that.

      “A lost ranger? Don’t you have a keen sense of direction?”

      “Only outside. Give me the outdoors and I’m fine. You can always find your way by the sun or the lay of the land. But in closed quarters, forget it. All the walls and hallways look the same to me.” Could he tell she was lying? It didn’t show in his face.

      “I thought this door was locked.” His golden eyes probed her face.

      “It wasn’t. I just walked right in.” Wynne wanted to step past Hellstrom, but he was holding the doorknob and blocking her way. “Now that you’re here, can you show me the way back to the party?”

      His gaze fell to the red dress. For a moment her body held his attention, then his expression softened. “You look so different in that gown. Quite stunning.” He stepped inside and closed the door. “I thought the red would look good on you.”

      “Thank you for letting me borrow it.” Wynne felt trapped as she watched him close the door. “We really should get back.”

      “You’ve caught me.” He stepped closer, his eyes taking on a strange dynamic glow.

      “Caught you?” Wynne tried to sound surprised, while her insides churned. Was this it? A showdown? If he knew she was on to him, he might move the operation. Or worse, eliminate her before she could find proof against him. Every muscle in her body tensed as she waited for his answer.

      “Yes, my wretched attempt at novel writing.” He motioned toward his desk, his gaze glued to the dress. Or her body in it. She wasn’t certain.

      “Novel writing?” Relief flooded Wynne as she glanced toward the desk. That’s when she noticed the mask…hanging crooked. Just a tiny bit off kilter. But definitely not how he’d left it. Oh, God! Had he seen it? From his angle, the stack of books on his desk blocked the bottom of the mask. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice.

      “I really just stumbled upon your office,” she said. “So I really didn’t see much.”

      “It’s fortunate the door wasn’t locked.” He cocked a brow at her and grinned, but it was a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I believe in fate. There are no coincidences. I was meant to find you at this moment.”

      And I was meant to find those bills of lading. “I have to disagree. I think man controls his own destiny.”

      “You speak your mind, don’t you?”

      “I am pretty direct.”

      “You’re one of a kind.”

      “Not really.”

      “I must disagree. Most women of my acquaintance flatter and dissemble. But you, you know your mind and are incredibly honest. I admire that. I think I can trust you with my secret.”

      “Your secret?” She wanted to look toward the mask, but held his gaze.

      “My writing secret.” There was an intimate depth to his voice that she’d never heard before.

      “Sure, I won’t tell anyone.”

      “Thank you.” He smiled, his even white teeth gleaming. “At least not until I get it published.” He paused, his eyes dipping to her breasts. “Now that you know my secret, it’s only fitting I know one of yours.” He stepped closer, their bodies almost touching.

      She could smell the starch in his white shirt, mixed with a musky aftershave and smoke from the party. A strand of straight black hair had fallen over his left brow, giving him a handsome, rakish look. If she didn’t know what a hypocrite and fraud he was, she might have been attracted to him. He was only a few inches taller than her and she was forced to look him straight in the eyes.

      “I’m a pretty open book.” She shrugged and then pointed to his gun collection. When she did, she stepped to the side so that in order for him to face her, his back would be toward the mask. “I did notice your gun collection when I came in. It must be worth thousands.”

      “It is, but you’re avoiding my question. You must have a secret.”

      Wynne almost glanced at the mask, but forced her eyes back to his face. She had to give him something and make it sound convincing so she said, “Um, my mother and I are estranged.”

      His expression turned inward. “My own dear mother is ill, I don’t see her as much as I would like.”

      So the letters she had found from the mental institution must have been from his mother. She recalled his mother’s photo and the peculiar look in her eyes. Now Wynne knew the reason for it.

      She really wanted to change the subject and get out of this office, but as long as it kept him occupied and not looking at the mask, she’d have to go with it. She sensed he didn’t want to talk yet and waited patiently.

      After a moment, he came out of his musings, but dark shadows lingered in his eyes. “My father was a bloody bastard. He gambled away all of my mother’s inheritance. He died leaving her penniless. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother and I don’t mind aiding her now, but it all could have been avoided.”

      She recalled the past due notices in his desk. How much aid could he afford to give his mother? He hadn’t paid his own bills or her mental hospital bills in months. “I’m sorry,” she said, trying to sound sympathetic.

      “Don’t be. It wasn’t the worst of my father’s contemptible qualities.”

      “There’s more?” She really didn’t want to hear anymore, but she had to keep him talking.

      “He had a wicked temper.” Hellstrom paused and appeared lost in bleak memories. After a moment, he said, “My mother stood up to him. Sometimes I wish she hadn’t.”

      Wynne suddenly could see Hellstrom, a frightened little boy, cowering in the corner, while his mother protected him from a beating. This was getting way too deep for her, so she said, “I’m not that brave. I ran to the other side of the globe from my mother.” Wynne frowned at that self-realization.

      “I’m sorry,” he said, then cleared his throat. “I digressed about my mother. Please, tell me about yours. Why are you estranged?”

      “I committed a cardinal sin.”

      “What was that?”

      “I refused to go to law school and become a partner in her law firm. You don’t say no to my mother. She couldn’t understand I wasn’t cut out to work behind a desk. And she never understood why I came to Zambia.”

      “Solicitors can make a difference. You could have worked in environmental law. What made you come to Africa to become a warden?”

      “Partly СКАЧАТЬ