L.A. Confidential (10 page)

His body burned from the thought of Lisa next to him,
wanting
him. And, Lord have mercy, he wanted her.

Frustrated, he tossed the magazine aside and threw off the sheet, letting the cool air soothe his overheated body. Yes, a tribute to the movie seemed like a fine idea, only he'd have to alter the theme a bit to make it uniquely his. For one thing, as erotic as lovers on the beach looked, he had to wonder if all that sand creeping up their bathing suits would be conducive to a seduction.

Not to mention what the bone-deep chill of the Pacific Ocean would do to his…well…enthusiasm. Of course, that might be a good thing. Maybe he needed to start thinking with his head instead of with other parts of his body.

But no. His libido—along with a finely honed need for retribution—was calling the shots. And as long as he'd gotten on this ride, he intended to enjoy it.

 

I
MAGES OF
K
EN
colored her dreams, so vivid she could feel him next to her, so potent she could smell the musk of his skin. She squirmed, reaching for him, but only finding her pillow.
Damn.

The sharp buzz of the hotel phone wrenched her from sleep completely, and she grappled for the handset, then mumbled a sleepy, “Hello?”

“Rise and shine, sunshine.”

She groaned, letting her head fall back onto her
pillow. “I'm three hours earlier, Greg. Call back at noon.”

“It is noon.”

Throwing back the sheet, she bolted upright, trying to focus on the clock. “Oh, no!” Twelve o'clock, straight up.

“Maybe we should rename you van Winkle.” He chuckled. “Wild night last night?”

Not wild enough. “Just tired. Working. Jet lag. The whole shebang.”

“Yeah, well, you're working all right. I'm impressed. You've barely arrived in La-La Land and you've already captured the crown jewels.”

“Excuse me?”

“The crown jewels. The cherry on the sundae. The piéce de résistance. You know—Oxygen.”

“What?” It was a shriek more than a question. “Where'd you hear that?”

“From Winston, of course.”

“Oh, no!” She slid out of bed and started pacing, one hand holding the phone, the other alternatively fisting and unfisting. “No, no, no!”

“It's not true?”

“No. I mean, yes. It's true. Well, at least it's sort of true. I mean, it will be true.” She flopped back onto the bed. “Oh, hell, this is all messed up.”

“What do you mean?” She could hear the frown in his voice. “I thought you told Winston—”

“I told Winston I have a deal. Yes, it's all going to work out fine. I mean, there's no reason why it won't. I just have to live up to my end of the bargain.”

“The bargain?” He paused. “What bargain?”

After she told him, she had to wait a good five
minutes for him to stop laughing. “Would you calm down? This is serious,” she said sternly.

“I'm sorry,” he managed to say between guffaws. “It's just that I guess I was wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“I figured Ken would just roll over and do whatever you asked. I never figured he'd concoct an agenda of his own.” Another short burst of laughter erupted. “And such a deliciously devious agenda at that.”

She scowled. “He's not the only one with an agenda, you know.”

“What? Your ingenious little plan to have him help you find other locations for the movie? Come on. Do you really think I'm buying that?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Don't you? You don't need a chaperone. You could scour Los Angeles and find locations with or without him. Which tells me that the only reason you're doing it with him is because you want to.”

She rolled over against her pillow, sure she was blushing even though Greg couldn't see her.

“I'm right, aren't I? Or are you being so quiet for some other reason?”

He was right, of course, but she couldn't bring herself to admit it.

He chuckled again, clearly enjoying himself. “Because I could help you, if you were just looking for some company.”

“Okay! Okay! You win. I want Ken to help. I liked spending time with him.” Liked the way she'd felt when he'd touched her and liked the way he'd looked at her. She didn't know what his motive was, but that didn't change the way he made her feel.

“Am I good, or what?”

She laughed. “Don't pat yourself on the back too hard. I asked him to help because I didn't want to be the only one on the hook. It wasn't until last night that I realized…” She trailed off, not sure what she realized.

“That all those old feelings were right there under the surface, just waiting to bubble up.”

“Yes. I mean, no.” She ran her hands through her hair. “I mean, I'm here to get my career back on its feet. And to do that I need Ken's help. I'm just—” she waved her hand in a circle “—taking advantage of the situation.” And she intended to enjoy every minute.

Again he chuckled. “Well, I hope you enjoy taking advantage.”

“So what did you mean when you said you could help me find locations?”

“I'm flying in tomorrow.”

“No way!” She sat up, thrilled she'd have an ally in L.A. “Why?”

“The company is staging the show in Los Angeles. I'm coming out until they cast someone for the L.A. show.”

“Fabulous!”

“Maybe we can spend a little time together. Unless you're too busy…” He paused, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “Unless you're too busy taking advantage of the situation.”

“I can only hope, Greg.” She smiled, imagining the decadent possibilities. “I can only hope.”

“W
E'RE DEFINITELY NOT
in the heart of L.A. anymore.”

Ken laughed, watching as Lisa adjusted the blindfold as they sped through the Malibu Canyon toward the Pacific Ocean miles ahead. “What was your first clue?”

She sniffed. “Air quality?”

He shot her an amused look as the Rolling Stones's “You Can't Always Get What You Want” blared out of the speakers. “Don't dis my hometown. The smog's how we keep our secret. Underneath that blanket of smog is the best city on the planet.”

“You don't have to tell me. I love Los Angeles. I can't wait to move back.”

That surprised him, and he slowed down, turning slightly to see her face. “I thought you loved New York.”

“No.” She scowled. “New York is great for a while, but I miss L.A. I miss the mountains and the beach. I mean, where else can you ski on Saturday and go scuba diving on Sunday?”

He turned back to the road, amused. “But you never did.”

She sighed. “No, but I should have. I should have done a lot of things.” In his peripheral vision, he saw that she'd turned toward him. “I was right here for years and I never knew how great I had it.”

He swallowed, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. Was she talking about the city? Her career?

Or was she talking about him?

He couldn't ask her outright, so he asked why she didn't come back.

She didn't answer. Instead she slipped a finger under the blindfold. “Come on. Tell me where we're going and let me take this off.”

“No way. Answer the question. And quit trying to peek.”

With a grimace, she dropped her hands into her lap, then shrugged. “I was an entire continent away. And I thought I had it so great with Tyrell.”

His stomach tightened, but he pushed the feeling away. “But it didn't work out with him.”

She laughed, the sound harsh and without humor. “That's the understatement of the century.”

“So why didn't you come back then?”

She rubbed her hands down her slacks, then half shrugged. “I was there. It was home. I'd made the decision to go, and…” She sighed, apparently not willing to admit out loud how much she hated to fail. “It's not always easy getting back where you want to be, or getting what you want, for that matter.”

Her tone was perfectly normal, no sadness or self-pity. But he knew better, and for the first time he had an inkling of how hard it must have been for her. He
knew two things for certain about Lisa. First, once upon a time, he'd loved her. And second, she couldn't stand failure.

Not sure it was the right thing to do, he reached over and took her hand. “Don't worry. We'll get you back home.”

Her mouth twitched, and she reached up with her free hand to rub her eye under the blindfold. “Thanks, Ken. I knew I could count on you.”

“And you can take that off now, if you want.”

“Really?”

“It's beautiful here. I'd hate for you to miss out.”

She smiled, then gave his fingers a squeeze before pulling the blindfold up and over her hair. She blinked, then inhaled deeply. “It's fabulous.”

He watched as she twisted around, taking in the surroundings as they glided by. Rolling green hills, fresh air, winding roads, and no traffic.

“Recognize it?”

At first she hesitated, then she nodded. “I think so. The Malibu Canyon?”

“Right on the money.”

She took a deep breath, then sighed. “I always loved it here.”

“I remember.”

When she turned to him this time, her smile seemed a little melancholy, and the now-familiar guilt settled in his stomach. He was helping her, true, but he was exacting a price. Fair? Probably not. He should just help her, and let her go on about her life. But he wanted her in his bed, wanted her out of his system.

He'd thought he wanted her to pay, also, but now he wasn't so sure. Considering the twisted-up way his
insides felt, he wondered if he wasn't the one paying the price.

But he couldn't walk away. Not now that she was beside him. Not now that he'd seen the passion in her eyes when he'd touched her. No, they both had a chance to revisit their past. A dangerous journey, maybe, but it was one he had to make.

“Anyway,” she said after a moment, her voice back to normal. “What
are
we doing here?”

“I like this stretch of road.” He downshifted to take a tight curve, enjoying the powerful engine at his control.

“It's breathtaking. But where are we going?”

“I'm pitching a theme. You'll have to wait and see.”

“Uh-huh. And what sort of theme are we talking about?”

He tossed her a shocked look. “Genius at work, here. Surely you don't want me to reveal all ahead of schedule?”

She quirked a brow. “Um, yeah. Give it up.”

“You're sure? Gonna take all the fun out of it.”

Turning in her seat, she crossed her arms and shot him an amused look. “Tell!”

He laughed. “Make me.”

 

L
ISA TAPPED HER FINGERS
in time to the radio, considering his demand.
Make me.

She bit back a smile, certain she could make him if she tried.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“I'm trying to decide.”

The corner of his lip curled up. “To decide what?”

“If I should make you.”

“Ah. Well, I warn you. I might take a lot of convincing.” He reached over and traced the tip of his finger along the back of her hand, leaving a trail of heat in the wake of his touch. “Are you sure you're up for it?”

She slipped her hand away, then reached over and closed her fingers around his thigh, enjoying the way he tensed under her touch. “I'm up for anything you've got in mind.”

“Are you?” As he spoke, he closed his hand over hers, and she held her breath as he urged it higher until her hand grazed the unmistakable bulge in his slacks.

She stifled a gasp, surprised by his boldness, even though she shouldn't be considering what he'd done to her last night. He pressed her hand down until there was no doubt at all how much he wanted her.

“Are you really up for anything?”

“Y-yes,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She cleared her throat, not willing to lose this round. “Absolutely,” she said more strongly.

He twined his fingers with hers. “I'm glad to hear it.”

“So tell me.” She leaned over, tracing the edge of his ear with her finger, enjoying the tension she saw in his arms as he tried to maintain his concentration on the road. “Tell me what you have planned.”

“All right. You've convinced me.” He took her hand, kissed her fingertips, then shot her a look clearly designed to shoot straight to the bottom of her heart.
“From Here to Eternity.”

“Excuse me? We're definitely going to meet up with eternity if you don't watch the road.”

He grinned, but kept his eyes on her. “The movie.” He
dragged the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. “The beach scene.”

“Oh.” She frowned, her forehead creasing as she tried to organize her thoughts.

He'd turned back to the road, but she could see his mouth curve into a smile. “You don't remember?”

“Of course I do.” Except she didn't. She was practically a walking movie encyclopedia and she hadn't the faintest idea what he was talking about. He'd so messed with her head that he seemed to have short-circuited her brain. The name was familiar, and the famous scene was right on the tip of her memory.

“Erotic scene, don't you think?”

“Absolutely,” she lied. “Enticing. You did your homework.” She turned away, scowling at the passing scenery. They crested a hill, and he steered the car to turn onto the Pacific Coast Highway. Below them, she got a quick glimpse of waves crashing on the rocky shore before the hills once again blocked her view.

Waves.
She closed her eyes, remembering. Lovers…a beach…of course!

Then she frowned again. Surely he didn't intend…

“You really don't expect us to…” She waved a hand in the air. “You know…on the beach.”

“So you do remember the movie.”

She shot him what she hoped was a haughty glance. “Of course. Film's my business. Remember?”

“Silly of me to have doubted you.”

She heard the tease in his voice but chose to ignore it. “You didn't answer my question. Beach. Public. Us. Not to mention all that itchy sand.”

A deep, genuine laugh erupted from him, and she
found herself smiling from the mere pleasure of the sound.

“What? Did I say something funny?”

He took her hand, shaking his head vaguely, and pressed a gentle kiss against her palm. “Not funny, just expected. I didn't think you'd like the sand any more than I would, so I'm improvising on my theme.”

“Improvising.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her head cocked to the side. “Should I be nervous?” A stupid question.
Of course
she should be nervous.

The voice of the D.J. faded from the radio, and another Rolling Stones's song, “Sympathy With the Devil,” blared from the speaker. Ken didn't answer the question, just started humming tunelessly with the song.

“You never could sing.”

“And you were never a patient woman.”

“Looks like I don't have a choice tonight.”

“No, you don't.” He looked at her, just long enough to meet her eyes before turning back to the road. “But I guarantee it'll be worth the wait.”

When he pulled up a few minutes later in front of a bungalow-style bed-and-breakfast tucked into a secluded cul-de-sac on the Malibu cliffs, Lisa decided he was probably right. The place was absolutely charming, and she followed Ken into the entryway where they were greeted by a smiling woman with a distinct Italian accent.

“Mr. Harper! It is so good to see you again.”

He clasped her hand, his smile one of genuine pleasure. “Maria, you look wonderful,” he said as they stepped inside. He nodded toward Lisa. “This is the young lady who belongs to the luggage I had delivered earlier.”

Lisa felt her mouth drop open, and she concentrated on closing it. “You sent luggage ahead?”

“I just had my assistant bring down a few essentials. Toothbrush. Bathing suit. A typical overnight kit.”

“Uh-huh.”

His boyish grin amused her, and she just shook her head as she looked around. The house was bigger than it looked on the outside, almost as if it had been designed to
look
like a cottage even though it was
designed
for entertaining. A black-and-white photograph of a woman who resembled Maria hung just inside the entryway.

“A relative?” Lisa asked.

“My grandmother.”

“She was lovely.”

“This was her hideaway,” Maria said, but didn't explain further. Instead, she took Lisa's arm. “I'll show you your room, and you can clean up for dinner.”

As Maria led her away, Lisa cast a backward look toward Ken. “
My
room?”

“I'm right next door.” She must have looked confused, because a look of pure amusement passed over his face. “Oh. And wear the bathing suit under your clothes. We'll go for a walk after we eat.”

“But no swimming for at least a half hour.” Maria's face was stern with motherly concern.

“Yes, ma'am,” Lisa and Ken said in unison. She caught his eye and they laughed. “I'll see you in a sec,” she said.

As Maria led her up the stairs to the cozy room she'd been assigned, Lisa couldn't help but think that this was one of the odder outings she'd ever been on. One thing was for certain—Ken wasn't taking any of this casually. Even if only revenge was on his mind, he was
planning it with the meticulous attention to detail she'd seen when he'd put together Oxygen. In a weird way, she was even flattered, knowing that someway, somehow, he was spending so much energy thinking about being with her—no matter what the reason.

“It's okay?” Maria stood in the doorway, her pride in the comfortably furnished room clearly visible.

“It's lovely.”

The gray-haired woman smiled. “Check the closet and the dresser. I unpacked your things earlier.”

“Thank you.”

“And hurry down to dinner. Ken stays here at least once a month, but you're the first young lady he's brought.” She beamed, and Lisa wondered if she reminded Ken of his mother. “So tonight I made something extra special.”

“I can't wait,” she said, meaning it. She realized not only how hungry she was, but that she didn't want to disappoint the woman—or Ken, for that matter. “I'll change and be right down.”

Maria and Ken hadn't exaggerated. Maria's lasagna was the best Lisa had ever tasted, and the garlic bread practically melted in her mouth. By the time Maria brought out a decadent-looking Italian cream cake, Lisa had eaten so much pasta she had to put up her hands in protest.

“I couldn't eat another bite.”

Ken pushed his chair back as well. “Same for me. It was wonderful, though, as usual.”

“I'll leave the cake in the kitchen. You two can have dessert later after your walk.” She beamed at them, and Lisa had the distinct impression the woman fancied herself a matchmaker. “Now I'm going up to my room to
catch up on some reading. You're my only guests tonight, so you've got the entire downstairs to yourselves.”

Ken stood as she left the room, then extended a hand to Lisa.

“Are we going outside so soon? I wasn't kidding about being stuffed.”

“Then let's sit in here for a bit. Besides, it's still early. Let's let the stragglers clear off the beach so we can have it to ourselves.”

She smiled, realizing how nice his proposition sounded.

“In the meantime,” he said, “what do you think of Maria's place?”