Undying Laughter. Kelsey Roberts
“I’m not.” Destiny turned in the seat, tucking her leg beneath her in the process. Her eyes took in the strong angles of his face. Everything about this man seemed to exude strength.
“Whatever you say.”
“I’m not,” she insisted. “I’m simply not willing to allow some lunatic to dictate my actions.”
“And what happens if this lunatic decides he wants to do more than just admire you from afar? Then what?”
“Are you trying to scare me to death?”
“No. I’m trying to get you to understand the potential danger of this situation.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Caring.”
Wesley met her eyes briefly. “Don’t most people care about you?”
“You answered my question with a question. You do that a lot.”
“Sorry.”
“My friends care about me, Doctor. But we’re hardly friends.”
“Really?”
“That’s another question.”
“Sorry.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Why aren’t we friends?”
“We don’t know each other,” Destiny said with a little laugh. “Maybe we would have been friends. That isn’t the point. I don’t understand why you’ve made me your cause du jour.”
“You aren’t a cause. You’re a woman with a serious problem.”
As she digested his answer, she wasn’t quite sure whether she liked it or not. “I’m a woman used to solving her own problems.”
“I’m sure you are,” Wesley told her easily. “But there’s no crime in asking for help. Especially when it’s freely offered.”
“Nothing in life is free, Doctor.”
“Very cynical,” he observed. “Care to expound?”
“Not particularly. Suffice it to say that I strongly believe that you have to pay for everything in one way or another.”
“I believe you’ve just simplified the dynamics of karma into a cross-stitch sampler.”
“Cute,” Destiny remarked, feeling herself relax. “Beneath that professional exterior lives a wicked sense of humor.”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
“Your secret is safe. Besides, I’m not keen on any more competition.”
“Do you constantly look over your shoulder for the next shining star?”
Destiny smiled and captured her hair in her fist as the car accelerated out of the city. “I try never to look back. It isn’t healthy.”
“Are you always this evasive?” Wesley queried.
“I guess it’s been a long time since I carried on a conversation with anyone other than Gina or David.”
“Very limited. Too limited for such a beautiful young woman.”
“Thanks, I think. You certainly are good at giving backhanded compliments.”
“Sorry. Must be Rose’s influence.”
“She seems like a very nice lady. Very real.”
“Except for her delusions about Elvis Presley and her passion for wearing animal prints.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a flamboyant personal style or an appreciation of the King.”
“I agree. But I’ll admit it was something of a shock to discover my mother looked and acted like a reject from some BBC comedy.”
“What do you mean, discover?”
“I’ve only recently reestablished a relationship with Rose. Mostly because of my brother, J.D. He and his wife went back to Florida shortly after they were married.”
“He’s the guy who did the dependency?” she asked.
Wesley nodded. “He and Tory—that’s his wife—had some trouble with the renovations.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“They found a body shorn up in the wall.”
“Yuk!” Destiny said with a groan. “Thanks for sharing that with me. It will make standing on that stage really comfortable.”
“It wasn’t a body, actually. It was a skeleton. And everything worked out in the end.”
“Sounds peachy,” Destiny managed to say. “Anything else you’d like to share with me?”
“I could tell you about Chad’s kidnapping, but I’ll save that for another time.”
“Chad? Isn’t that Agent Tanner’s son?”
“Yep.”
“Is The Rose Tattoo cursed, or something?”
“Nothing so sinister,” Wes assured her. “Just a bad year or so for the locals.”
“I guess if my admirer shows up, he’ll be in good company here in Charleston. That’s something.”
“Calm down, Destiny. The guy in the wall was the former owner. And the Tanners’ son was returned safely to his very grateful, albeit overly indulgent, parents.”
“And everyone lived happily ever after,” she said as they parked in front of the villa.
“Absolutely,” he answered holding her door open.
“Then I guess I should feel relieved that I’m here.”
“Maybe not,” Wes said, nodding his head in the direction of the door to her villa.
“Great!” Destiny fumed as she spotted the large, crudely wrapped package guarding the entrance.
“Wait a second!” she heard Wesley call out. Determination and a fair amount of anger fueled each step. “I can’t believe he found out where I was staying.”
“I think we should call Dylan.”
Destiny tore into the paper expecting flowers. But it wasn’t flowers.
Chapter Five
“Don’t touch it,” Wesley instructed as he gathered her against him, his eyes fixed on the weird thing.
“Don’t worry,” she replied, her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt. “I have no desire to touch that.”
She remained against him while he dug into her purse, got her keys and led her into the villa. “We’ll call Dylan, and I think we should consider calling the police.”
“And tell them what?” she asked, tilting her face upward. “I’ve been down this road already. The authorities can’t do anything until this fruitcake actually threatens me,” she said as she pushed away from him and moved across the room.
He leaned against the counter as silent rage welled inside him. “What he did to that doll is somewhat threatening.”
She shivered and ran her hands along the bared flesh of her arms. Her expression was guarded—only her eyes gave him an insight to her true feelings. What he saw in her eyes was a blend of fear and disbelief. Wesley intellectualized the disbelief, but his response to the fear was more primitive, more primal. Despite the inherent strength he sensed in Destiny, he also believed there was a fair amount of vulnerability buried beneath the surface. Not a helpless vulnerability,