The Wrong Woman. Linda Warren

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The Wrong Woman - Linda  Warren


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the person, and they tumbled onto the bed. Ethan realized two things almost instantly. The person was a woman and the woman was Serena. He recognized that perfume. His hold loosened and his body relaxed, but Serena kicked out with her legs and knocked him to the floor—on his bad hip. Pain shot through him and for a moment he was paralyzed.

      “Ethan, I’m so sorry.” Serena fell on her knees beside him. “Did I hurt you?”

      “No,” he lied, and struggled to his feet. If she offered to help him, he’d explode. He sank onto the bed. “What the hell are you doing here?”

      “Are you okay?” she said quickly, avoiding his question.

      “What are you doing here, Serena?” he repeated in a tight voice.

      She sat beside him—so close that he could breathe in her delicate scent. He wanted to ask her to move, to get as far away from him as possible, because he was in a mood that did not bode well for either of them.

      “I just couldn’t sit at home any longer, and when I saw the name of the motel on caller I.D., I decided to drive over.”

      How could he let something like that slip by him? “Damn, I’m getting too old for this job.”

      “You think you’re old?” Her voice revealed surprise.

      Right now he felt about ninety and her presence wasn’t helping. “How did you get in here?”

      “Well—” she twisted her hands. “They don’t give out room numbers easily. I told the guy at the desk that I was your wife and that I wanted to surprise you. He gave me the number but no key. When I got here, the maid was putting fresh towels in the bathroom. So I just walked in. She didn’t speak much English and she obviously assumed the room was mine. I didn’t correct her assumption. I’ve been waiting for you since early evening. I was about to go crazy.”

      Ethan was tired and his hip was throbbing and the last thing he wanted to do was deal with Serena Farrell. Silence reigned as he tried to figure out what his next step should be.

      “Ethan.”

      “Hmm?”

      “Did you see her tonight?”

      He drew a much-needed breath and turned to look at her, then wished he hadn’t. Her eyes were bright with expectation. She had to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen—he wasn’t a man who usually fell for beauty. When he was younger, beauty had attracted him first, but as he matured, honesty, faithfulness and kindness attracted him more. But looking at Serena, he didn’t really care about any of those qualities. That threw him and he decided he must’ve been watching too many women strip. He’d thought he was unaffected by the performances, but clearly he’d been wrong about that.

      “Ethan,” she prompted when he didn’t answer.

      “No, I didn’t see her,” he said.

      “Oh, no. I was hoping…”

      At the anxiety in her voice, he added, “But I have a strange feeling about that place.”

      “Why?”

      “Because everyone got real nervous when I started asking questions.”

      “They did?”

      “Yep, and they weren’t giving out any information, either.”

      “So, she’s still there.”

      “That’s my guess. I’ll try again tomorrow night.”

      She fidgeted nervously. “I can’t afford to pay you for another night. I suppose I could go myself, but I’ve never been to a strip club. The activities are probably more than my imagination will allow.”

      “It’s not a day at Sunday school,” he told her. “But don’t worry about it. The next night will be on me.”

      “I can’t let you do that,” she said. “Your time is valuable.”

      “I want to find out what’s going on in that place for reasons of my own, so we’ll call it even. Now I think we should both get some sleep.”

      She didn’t move or say anything.

      “Something wrong?” he asked guardedly.

      “No. I knew it would be late when I saw you, so I told my grandmother I had business in Dallas and would be spending the night. There’s a No Vacancy sign outside, and I didn’t want to leave in case I missed you.” She should’ve left earlier, but she’d wanted to see Ethan. Now the thought of driving around looking for a room wasn’t appealing and neither was the prospect of going home. She could stay here with Ethan. He had a big room with a sofa. As the idea crossed her mind, she wondered where it came from. It was so unlike anything she’d ever contemplated; Ethan was a stranger and male, and that alone should make her think twice about such a situation. But for some reason, she didn’t fear him or worry that he’d take advantage of her.

      He sighed, not wanting to think about what this meant.

      “Do you mind if I stay here? I can sleep on the sofa,” she offered quickly, suspecting she’d lost all common sense. She should just go home. But, somehow, she wasn’t inclined to leave…and she wasn’t entirely sure why. “I really don’t want to drive back to Fort Worth this late. I’ll explain it to your wife.”

      “I’ve been divorced for ten years.” He knew he didn’t have to tell her that. The fact that she thought he was married would have kept a barrier between them, but he was always honest. It was a code he lived by.

      “Oh.” Her eyes grew big. “Then there isn’t a problem.”

      Yes, there is. “No” was the word that came out of his mouth.

      Silence. A long, tense silence.

      Ethan wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to get her out of here so he could deal with his hip, but he hated to see her on the road this late. Still, being in the same room with her all night, especially when he was in pain, was more than his nerves could take—probably more than he could take under any circumstances. But how did he say no to her? Did he even want to say no to her?

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