The Summit (10 page)

Read The Summit Online

Authors: Kat Martin

Tension crept into Ben's shoulders. “What did you see?”

Autumn opened her small black beaded purse and took out the copy she had made of the notes she had taken in the middle of the night.

“I wrote everything down. You can look it over whenever you get time.”

Ben flicked on the light inside the plush interior of the limo and read each of the lines she had written.

“This is fairly detailed. All three women were attractive, tall and slim, with long blond hair and blue eyes. You say that nothing about them seemed to show a concern for fashion. What does that mean exactly?”

“I'm not sure. But considering they were all fairly young, they were dressed rather simply—not a Tommy Bahama T-shirt in the bunch.”

“You guessed their ages…Molly twelve—well, almost twelve at any rate. One of them appears to be about fifteen. The other late thirties.”

“That's right.”

“You say the house was inexpensively furnished—an older stove, a long table in the kitchen beneath an overhanging lamp. The women seemed to be setting the table for dinner.” He looked up. “It says you could see mountains out the kitchen window.”

“This was the first time I noticed them.”

“Mountain peaks or just hills?”

“I'm not sure. I just caught a glimpse. I couldn't tell if they were granite or sandstone or anything else about them. And nothing about them looked familiar.”

Ben's dark gaze moved over her face. “You've dreamed every time we've been together.”

“Yes.”

He seemed to file that information away, went back to studying the rest of the notes she had made, then carefully folded the sheets of paper and stuck them into the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket.

They reached the location of the benefit, held in a ballroom of the ritzy Fairmont Olympic Hotel. Now that she had given Ben her latest information on the dream, she could relax a little. Maybe even try to enjoy herself.

Well, at least as much as her nerves would let her.

Ben helped her out of the limo and they walked along the red carpet into the hotel, one of the Pacific Northwest's most stunning, with magnificent molded ceilings and Corinthian columns in the lobby and an ornate curving staircase leading up to the Spanish Ballroom on the second floor. Autumn had been there for drinks on special occasions, but this was different. She was a guest here tonight and she was determined to make the most of it.

Ben moved through the lobby like a man who belonged in the elegant surroundings and she clung to his arm.

He leaned toward her. “You said you like to play dress-up. Well, Cinderella, you can't do much better than this.”

No, it didn't get any better than this. She was attending a ball with Prince Charming, but just like Cinderella at the end of the night, her coach would turn into a pumpkin and she would return to the real world where she was merely a grammar school teacher.

And Prince Charming would only come looking for her as long as he needed her to help him find his daughter.

Inside the fabulous Spanish Ballroom, they were seated at a round table with six other people, all of them formally and expensively dressed. Ben introduced her, telling them she was a friend of his, a schoolteacher as well as a professional climbing instructor who was currently giving him lessons.

The men looked her over, considered her size and cast her dubious glances, but the women were clearly intrigued. Autumn found herself answering questions about climbing and the skill it required and beginning to actually enjoy herself.

“You see, you're doing just fine,” Ben said to her softly. “I knew you would.”

“Did you?”

“Yes, I did. You're the only one who seems to doubt your capabilities.”

She looked up at him. “Not when it comes to climbing.”

“No, not then.”

Dinner was served and the speeches began, thankfully not lasting nearly as long as she had feared. Then the eight-piece orchestra began playing slow, romantic Frank Sinatra–style music—perfect for a Cinderella night.

“Anyone who likes to wear ball gowns must like to dance.” Ben shoved back his chair, stood up and offered her his arm. “May I have the pleasure?”

She smiled and accepted. Ben guided her out onto the dance floor and she turned and went into his arms. He looked incredibly handsome tonight. With his dark hair perfectly combed, his solid jaw and tanned complexion, he drew the attention of every woman in the room. She tried to ignore the closeness of his big, hard body, the smooth way he led her in the steps of a waltz, how warm his hand felt wrapped around her own.

“God, you smell good,” he said, cutting into her thoughts.

“Michael Kors—perfume not cologne—and it costs a fortune. I know it's a wicked indulgence but I figure I'm worth it.”

“Ahh…” He bent and pressed his cheek against hers as he stepped into a turn. “What other wicked indulgences do you allow yourself, Autumn Sommers?”

Thinking of the tiny pink butterfly tattooed on the left cheek of her bottom, her face went warm. She looked up to see Ben watching her, a faint smile on his lips.

“All right, let's have it.”

“Not a chance.”

“I won't rest until I know what it is.”

She shook her head. “Not going to happen.”

Ben ran a finger along her cheek. “I'll take that as a challenge. I never could resist a challenge.”

 

The formal evening didn't drag the way they usually did. Instead, Ben found himself enjoying himself, smiling at something Autumn said, pleased by the excitement in her pretty green eyes, her obvious pleasure in such a lavish affair. Most of the women he dated had been to dozens of events like this one. They endured but didn't really enjoy them.

Autumn was different.

In fact, the entire evening had been different from the moment he had opened the door to her apartment and seen her in her remodeled evening gown. He knew it wasn't expensive, but somehow she had made it appear as if it were, and the body-hugging style perfectly showed off her small, toned, nicely curved body.

Until tonight he had thought her merely pretty but he had told her the truth—with her shiny dark copper hair, finely arched eyebrows and delicate features, Autumn was a beautiful woman.

As dessert was served—a tower of chocolate curls topped with whipped cream on a bed of pureed raspberry sauce—he found himself staring into those green cat-eyes and had to remind himself to eat. It was amazing. She wasn't even his type.

He reminded himself of that again as he watched her little pink tongue dart out to lick a smudge of whipped cream from her spoon. She wasn't his type and for all he knew, she could be three bricks shy of a load.

They danced again and he held her a little closer than he should have, surprised to discover how well her small frame tucked into his. Desire spilled through him and he was hard before the music really got started, but then he'd been aroused on and off all night.

He couldn't help thinking about the wicked perfume she wore and the even more wicked something she wouldn't tell him about. It would drive him mad until he discovered what it was and yet he damned well knew how dangerous it was to get involved with her on any sort of personal level.

Still there seemed no way to avoid it.

They were riding in the limo on their way back to her condo when he hit her with his latest demand.

“It was a nice evening, wasn't it?” he said casually, easing into the subject he wanted to discuss.

Autumn looked at him and smiled. “I had a wonderful time, Ben. I didn't think I would enjoy myself but I did. I really did feel like Cinderella.”

He straightened a little, gearing himself up for the argument he knew would come. “I hope it won't spoil your memory of the evening when I tell you Prince Charming is planning to spend the night.”

“What?”

“Not in your bed…at least not without an invitation.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Look, Autumn, you've had this dream of yours every time we've been together. Odds are you'll dream again tonight. If you do, I want to be there when you wake up.”

“No way. I am not letting you stay with me. No way, no how, no sir.”

He gave her what he hoped was a disarming smile. “You aren't afraid of me, are you?”

Autumn eyed him with suspicion. “There's such a thing as date rape, you know. Maybe once I let you in—”

“I don't have to rape my women. I don't intend to start with you.”

She stared at him for a moment, then blew out a breath. “Look, I'll write it all down, just like I did before. I won't leave anything out.”

“Let me stay. When you wake up, I'll be there to help you focus. I'll ask you questions while your mind is fresh. Maybe something important will come out.”

She chewed her bottom lip, a habit he had noticed, whenever she was nervous. Her lips were plump and glossy and a soft shade of rose. His groin tightened and a shot of lust hit him like a fist in the stomach. He couldn't remember the last time a woman had turned him on the way this one did.

“Let me stay,” he coaxed, wishing he wouldn't be sleeping on the sofa but next to her in that sweetly sexy canopy bed.

“It's a bad idea, Ben.”

“All of this is a bad idea. The whole damned thing is totally insane.”

“I know it is—but it's happening just the same.”

“Then let me stay. If I'm satisfied your dreams are for real, you'll have my complete cooperation. We'll work together, do whatever it takes to find out the truth about Molly.”

The limo rolled to a stop. An instant later, the driver jerked open the door. Autumn turned to get out, but Ben caught her arm.

“What's it going to be, Autumn? We keep dancing around this or we set things in motion?”

Autumn released a long, resigned sigh. “All right. You can stay, but you're sleeping on the couch.”

Ben wasn't sure it was truly a victory but he nodded. His driver gave him a conspiratorial wink as he stepped out of the car.

Apparently, his reputation preceded him.

If you only knew,
Ben thought. He hoped Autumn wouldn't notice the driver's knowing grin.

Ten

A
utumn unlocked the door to her condo, her nerves kicking in again. For God's sake, Ben McKenzie was spending the night with her! Well, not exactly
with
her. Not in her bed, at any rate.

The thought sent a sliver of heat into her stomach. Dear God, even on the sofa the man would be far too close for comfort. She found him ridiculously attractive and he would be there in her living room, sleeping just a few feet away.

He's there for good reason,
she told herself.
It's really no big deal.
At least it shouldn't be. For one reason or another, Josh had slept on the couch at least four or five times. But Josh wasn't Ben and that was the rub.

Autumn flicked a glance at the tall man standing beside the breakfast bar stripping off his black tuxedo jacket. He tossed it over the back of a chair, then proceeded to remove his black bow tie, unfasten his gold-and-onyx cufflinks and remove the matching studs that closed the front of his pleated white shirt.

When he started to tug the shirt out of his trousers, Autumn held up a hand. “Wait a minute! What do you think you're doing?”

“I'm taking off my shirt. You don't expect me to sleep in my clothes, do you?”

“I don't know, I…I mean, you should have thought to bring something with you or…or…”

“Look, I didn't plan this. After I read the paper you gave me with the details of your dream, it seemed like a good idea.”

She nervously chewed her lip. “Maybe we should try it a different night when we're both better prepared.”

Ben unfastened the last of the studs and his white shirt parted, exposing his chest. It was wide and muscled and lightly furred. Autumn's gaze moved over that hard male anatomy and her stomach contracted.

“You're looking at me like you've never seen a man's bare chest before.”

“Well, I—”

“There was good ol' Steven Elliot, remember?”

“Steve wasn't built like you.” Autumn closed her eyes, wishing she could call back the words.

Ben stood there grinning. “I think I like you, Autumn Sommers. You have an honesty I haven't seen in a woman in years.” He frowned. “At least I hope you do.” He turned and walked over to the sofa, which wasn't all that big. “You got an extra pillow I can borrow? Maybe a blanket?”

She went into her bedroom and came out with a blanket and pillow and set them down on the end of the couch. When Ben went in to use the bathroom, Autumn gave him one of the extra toothbrushes she kept for emergencies then waited for him to come out.

Noticing she still wore her evening gown, he paused on his way to the sofa. “Unless you're planning to offer me a nightcap, I suggest we both go to bed.”

She quickly nodded. A nightcap with a half-naked Ben McKenzie was the last thing she wanted. “If there's anything you need…”

Ben cast her a slow, sensuous glance that said exactly what he needed. “Actually there is one more thing.” The husky note in his voice threw out warning signals, but she couldn't make herself move.

Ben walked over to where she stood in the bedroom doorway. “A Cinderella night wouldn't be complete without a goodnight kiss.”

Before she could protest, he bent his head and settled his mouth very softly over hers. It was supposed to be a sweet, romantic good-night kiss and for a few brief moments it was. He tasted a little like chocolate and champagne and his lips were softer than they appeared and seemed to fit perfectly with hers.

She meant to pull away, to end the moment on a casually romantic note, but instead her lips parted under his, allowing him entrance, and his tongue swept in. A rush of heat slammed into her, then raced out through her limbs. Ben drew her into his arms and before she knew it she was clinging to his neck, kissing him back with the same urgency he was kissing her.

Her legs turned to jelly. Her body felt as limp as overcooked spaghetti and her lips trembled at the pleasure of his skillful mouth and tongue. He seemed to drink her in, to savor the taste of her. He nibbled the corners of her mouth, kissed her one way and then another, then kissed her deeply again.

She was trembling, her nipples aching, her body on fire for him. Her traitorous hands slid inside his shirt and she felt the intriguing texture of muscle over bone. It was the touch of hot bare skin that returned her to sanity.

Autumn jerked away as if she'd been burned, retreated quickly to the safety of her bedroom and firmly closed the door. Leaning back against the wall, she realized her heart was racing as if she had run a thousand miles and her legs were shaking, barely holding her up.

Good Lord, she had never been kissed that way, not by Steve Elliot or that weasel Ronnie Hillson or any other man. No wonder women fell at Ben's feet. Dear God, if he was this good at kissing what would he be like in bed?

Her eyes widened in horror at the thought. She refused to think of Ben in any sort of physical sense. With his reputation as a philanderer and her history of unwise choices where men were concerned, just kissing him was tantamount to a disaster. Autumn took a deep breath and worked to close her mind to any more thoughts of Ben and especially those that might wander in the direction of the bedroom.

On the opposite side of the wall, she could hear him in the living room, fiddling with his blanket and pillow. She knew he wouldn't sleep in his expensive tuxedo pants. She tried not to wonder whether he wore boxers or briefs.

Blowing out a breath, she came away from the wall, twisted her body around enough to unfasten the zipper on her sequined dress and stepped out of it. She took off her lacy black underwear and thigh-high black stockings and put on an oversize T-shirt that read CLIMBERS LIKE GETTING HIGH.

She preferred her pink shortie nightgown, but knowing that Ben McKenzie—the best kisser on the planet—was sleeping on the other side of the wall, she chose the T-shirt instead.

“Don't forget to leave your door open,” Ben called from the living room.

Autumn walked over and jerked it open, ready to argue, grateful to discover the light was no longer turned on.

“If you start to dream, I'll be able to hear you,” he explained, his deep voice drifting up from the sofa. “You might say something important.”

He was right, of course. That was the reason he was there.

“Okay…all right, I'll leave it open.” Leaving the door ajar, she finished her bathroom routine then went over to the bed, pulled back the covers and stretched out beneath the sheets. It took a while, but it was getting late and as tired as she was, she finally fell asleep.

 

Ben was sleeping in fits and starts. It had taken him an hour after that blazing kiss to bring his body under enough control enough to fall asleep. Damn, he hadn't expected the powerful jolt of desire that had swept through him the minute his mouth touched hers. Those ripe, sweet lips and a body that seemed to melt in his arms. She was incredibly responsive and it turned him on like crazy. There was something about Autumn Sommers that reached him in a way no woman had for a very long time.

As he lay awake for the second time that night, he found the thought disturbing. He liked his life the way it was. No entanglements, no emotional involvements. The risk just wasn't worth it. He knew the pain of losing someone you loved and he wasn't about to chance that kind of pain again.

Still, he had to admit the lady had captured his interest. Her mix of outside toughness and inside softness was intriguing. During the course of the evening, they had talked about hiking and camping and their shared love of the outdoors. He had mentioned his love of kayaking, and she said she had always wanted to try the sport.

She was in incredible physical condition, a true athlete, and according to Pete Rossi's report, one of the best climbers in Washington State.

And yet as he lay there looking at the dainty Victorian furnishings in her living room, as he caught the lingering scent of her soft perfume and thought how sexy she looked in an evening gown, there was no mistaking that this was a very feminine woman.

Intriguing.
That was the word for Autumn Sommers.

To his perfectly ordered world, maybe even dangerous.

Ben sighed into the darkness. Currently, he was mostly in danger of not getting back to sleep. Though tomorrow was Sunday, he had work to do at the office in the morning and it was his day to pick up Katie. He plumped his pillow and tried to clear his head so that he could get some rest. He had just closed his eyes when he heard the muffled sound of Autumn's voice floating toward him from the other room.

Shooting up off the sofa, he raced through the open bedroom door. Autumn appeared to be sound asleep so he knelt quietly beside the bed. She seemed to be dreaming, her head tossing back and forth on the pillow, her lips moving, mumbling whispered words. He studied her a moment, making certain she was actually asleep and not pretending, assuring himself this wasn't some sort of ploy.

If she was faking, she was damned good. She whispered something else and he moved close enough to hear, heard her say, “No…not…Ruthie…Molly…”

He had no idea what she was talking about. Picking up the pad and paper she had put beside the bed, he wrote down the words but didn't wake her. Not yet. Not until she began to drift into a deeper sleep did he reach out to touch her. In the same instant, she opened her eyes and jolted upright in the bed.

“It's all right,” Ben said gently. “You were just dreaming. Do you remember?”

She blinked several times, trying to get her bearings, then slowly nodded.

“Tell me what you recall.”

Her hand trembled as she pushed back her thick dark hair, shoving the heavy curls away from her face. “They were there in the kitchen…Molly and the other two women.”

“What were they doing?” he gently prodded.

“The older woman was scolding Molly for something she had done but I don't know what it was.”

“What else?”

“The older woman said something like, ‘He'll be home any minute. We need to have everything ready. He doesn't like to be kept waiting.'”

“Go on. What else did you see?”

“I saw the mountains through the window, just like before…the simple kitchen with the light hanging down over the long wooden table.” She closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating, trying to remember, then shook her head. “That's it. That's all I can recall.”

“What about Ruthie?”

She glanced up at him. “Ruthie?”

“It was a name you said before you woke up. You said, ‘Not Ruthie…Molly.'”

Her eyebrows drew together in concentration. “Not Ruthie…?” She looked up. “Yes…now I remember. The older woman called her
Ruthie,
but it was Molly I saw. I don't know why she called her that.”

Ben started to frown. “Maybe you have the wrong girl. Maybe you're dreaming about someone else.”

Autumn caught his arm. “It's her, Ben, I know it.”

“Then why did they call her Ruthie?”

She took a breath and he could almost see the wheels turning in her head. “I need a drink of water. Would you hand me my robe?”

He reached out and caught a handful of quilted pink satin trimmed with lace, dragged it off the foot of the bed and handed it to her.

A corner of his mouth edged up as she slipped the frilly garment over a man-sized T-shirt with CLIMBERS LIKE TO GET HIGH printed on the front.

Intriguing.

She moved past him into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and took out a chilled bottle of water. She cranked off the lid and took several long swallows, then returned her attention to him.

“Maybe whoever took Molly didn't know her name so he just made one up.”

“She would have told him her name,” Ben said.

“Then maybe he didn't like the way it sounded or he figured someone might recognize the name so he changed it.”

Ben mulled that over. “That's possible. He would have changed her name if he was afraid someone might see something about Molly on the news or read her name in the papers.”

Autumn's fingers tightened around the plastic water bottle. “Dammit, I wish I could remember more or that the dream would go further.”

“In time, maybe it will.”

She looked up at him. “You were right to stay. I wouldn't have remembered the part about Ruthie. At least not tonight.” She held out the bottle. “You want a drink?”

He took it from her hand and drank several big swallows. He caught a taste of her on the bottle. Memories of their kiss returned and his body began to stir. He handed back the water and pulled himself under control. “Thanks.”

Autumn's gaze ran over his naked chest, moved lower and her cat-eyes rounded. “Boxers.”

He couldn't help a grin. “Nice fitted ones, though. Not those big, baggy-legged kind. You thought I looked like a briefs man?”

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