Formula for Danger. Camy Tang

Formula for Danger - Camy  Tang


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really should talk to that guard. He ran after the person and left me by myself. Even when I called to him. And it was obvious the other guard was after the man, too, so there was no need for him to give chase.”

      Naomi smiled politely and responded with amazing courtesy when Rachel knew she must be rolling her eyes inside.

      A flash of car headlights made Rachel wince as a vehicle headed down the spa driveway.

      Then alarm jolted through her. The spa was closed, and the security guards, running after the thief toward the driveway, would have stopped the car from entering. Were the guards okay?

      The car maneuvered into the staff parking lot, then stopped right next to them. A door opened and slammed shut. “Rachel!”

      Edward Villa’s voice made her heart leap into her throat, then settle back down in her chest, racing. Edward was here. Suddenly everything seemed okay.

      No, she had to stop reacting this way to him. He didn’t think of her as anything other than a client.

      “Are you all right?”

      She smelled him—pine, a hint of the orchids he worked with at his greenhouses and earthy musk—before her eyes registered that he was crouched in front of her, edging out Ms. Reynolds.

      “The guards told me what happened when I drove in.”

      She had been able to keep it together when talking to Naomi, but somehow, his concern for her undermined her control over her emotions, and she steeled her jaw against a sudden onslaught of wild sobbing. Casting herself into his arms would only solidify his cool opinion of her, which he had made abundantly clear a couple months ago.

      “Rachel.” He reached out for her.

      She held up a hand to stop him.

      He grasped her hand, engulfing her fingers. His callused fingers rubbed her knuckles. His touch made her head spin.

      “I’m fine,” she whispered, breathless. She pulled her hand away.

      The security guards walked up to them. “I’m sorry, Miss Grant, he got away. He ran up the driveway, and there was a car waiting for him at the end of it. They took off.”

      “Dr. Grant, are you okay?” the other guard asked, peering at Rachel.

      She felt like a bug on display. “I’m fine.” She heaved herself to her feet, but it made the blood pound painfully in her head. She swayed.

      Edward’s arm wrapped around her, making the earth stand still again. It felt good to be held by him. It felt…

      Too good. She pulled away from him.

      Edward paused a moment, then he bent down and collected her purse, which had dropped and scattered its contents when she fell. As he handed it to her, his eyes were calm, but somehow she could sense a fire burning behind them. As if other emotions ran deeper.

      She didn’t understand. While they had been working together for the past year on Rachel’s new product for the spa, they had gotten closer, and she had felt free to be herself with him. But then, in the past couple months, he had withdrawn from her, become distant and polite.

      Maybe he had seen who she really was…and he hadn’t liked what he saw.

      The thought was like a punch to her gut, every time she thought it. Which had been often in the past two months.

      No, maybe he had never been interested in her, and he’d suddenly become aware that he was leading her on. Regardless, recently he had been clear in showing that he had no interest in her beyond a good business relationship.

      She was just imagining the emotion in his eyes was deeper than natural concern. “Thank you.” She took her purse from him, avoiding touching his hand again.

      The silence was thicker than cold cream.

      “Rachel—” he began.

      “Here you go, Miss Rachel.” Martin, a security guard who had been with them for years, handed her an ice pack he must have gotten from inside the spa. “That’ll keep the swelling down from that shiner.”

      His light words made her smile, made the situation not seem so horribly violating. “Thanks, Martin.” She pressed the cold pack to her eye, and found that it enabled her to avoid looking at Edward.

      “Ms. Reynolds,” Naomi said, “let me escort you back inside. We can wait for the police in one of the lounge rooms.”

      Rachel stayed outside and watched them reenter the spa. She tried not to remember what had happened, but it came to her in flashes. She shivered. She’d been bullied in grade school because she’d been a geek and a bit odd, but no one had ever assaulted her. Even bickering with her sisters Naomi and Monica had never gone beyond a little hair-pulling.

      But tonight, someone had deliberately hurt her. It made her feel weak and vulnerable. Not in control.

      And she didn’t like it.

      She especially didn’t like that it had happened here, at the spa.

      She suddenly realized that Edward had no reason to visit her here. They usually talked on the phone about the basil plants he was growing for production of her new spa product and met at his greenhouses. Why was he at the spa this late at night? “Edward, what are you doing here?”

      His eyes were deep obsidian pools as they studied her, then he surprised her by looking away. “Edward?”

      He sighed. “I called your home and your sister Monica said you were still here.”

      “Did you try calling my cell phone? Did I not hear it ringing?” She fumbled in her purse and grasped the rubbery edge of her rugged waterproof cell phone—a necessity since she’d ruined two phones by using them while working in the lab with chemicals.

      “No, I didn’t call.”

      Avoidance wasn’t Edward’s style—neither was this vague evasiveness. “Then what…?”

      He didn’t answer immediately, and his face was grave. “I came to the spa to tell you something you’re not going to like.”

      Her heart beat hard, once. But really, how could her day get any worse? “Lay it on me. I’m ready.”

      “Earlier tonight, someone broke into greenhouse four.”

      “Greenhouse four? My greenhouse?” Technically, it was his greenhouse, but the only things in it were her Malaysian basil plants. “Were you there? Are you okay?”

      He paused, and his searching gaze made her stomach flip. But she lifted her head and tightened her muscles to keep her molten insides in place.

      “I’m fine. I wasn’t there when it happened.”

      “Oh. Good.” She tried to slow her racing heart. “Did you call the police?”

      “Yes. I left my brother, Alex, to meet with them while I came to talk to you. On the way, I called Horatio Carter, who said he was also headed here with your aunt, so that was fortunate. I’m hoping he’ll come back to the greenhouse with me tonight.”

      “How did you find out about the break-in?”

      “I left my cell phone in greenhouse six, so I went to get it. I noticed movement in the yard, and when I went to check the greenhouses, I found yours unlocked.”

      Her headache became a jackhammer against her skull. “Was everything okay?”

      The lines deepened around his mouth. “No. Someone trashed it—all your plants.”

      She gasped.

      “Don’t panic too much. Alex is moving the plants to greenhouse seven right now, and I can salvage most of it.”

      “Most of it?” She needed Edward to cultivate a certain number of plants so she could make the extract for her scar-reduction cream, scheduled to launch in only five


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