Chapter One
The shower stall was thick with steam, the hum of the motor reverberating through the walls as fat beads of condensation ran down the natural brown stone tiles and fogged glass door. Tipping her head back into the spray and sweeping the sodden, honey-coloured tresses from her eyes, Mina Carring uttered a low, throaty moan as the scalding water pelted her naked body, washing the stresses of the day away.
She longed for moments like these. After a long day posing for cameras and listening to photographers and directors screaming at each other like toddlers contesting for their favourite toy, there was nothing more relaxing than a scalding-hot shower.
And it really hadn’t been her day.
Even from the outset, nothing had seemed to go to plan. It all started with her sleeping through her alarm and oversleeping by more than half an hour. Then the coffee maker had died mid-brew, forcing her to start the day without her vital morning fix. Later, matters were only made worse by the combination of morning rush hour and a minor accident that had left her stranded in a long, snaking queue of traffic down Route 405, more than an hour after she was supposed to meet with her agent for a late breakfast. Finally, there was that debacle of a photo-shoot.
While few, knowledgeable individuals would describe the life of a model and actress as easy, that one shoot had just about taken the biscuit. It should have been so simple, so easy. Just one shoot, little more than a day’s work, modelling a new fashion line for a new European branded clothing store that would be opening on Montana Avenue sometime in the summer.
There had just been one problem. The French photographer commissioned for the shoot considered himself a born-again Guy Bourdin, but seemed only to bear a striking resemblance to a toad, and had insisted on having the natural lighting and mood of every shot to be exact to his vision. Yet there were not enough hours in the day or positions of the sun, and in the end, an afternoon’s shoot had to be spread over three days. Today had been the last and was an easy two hours posing on a rock rising out of the surf and walking across the deserted stretch of beach. However, it seemed Pierre the Toad had woken up on the wrong side of his fishpond and before she had even had a chance to change, he was screaming that ‘this was wrong’ or ‘that was out of place’.
In the end, chewing her bottom lip was all she could do to stop herself from telling him just where he could stick his precious vision.
Despite the heat of the shower, Mina shuddered at the memory. She’d so desperately wanted to leave, to quit and go on with her day the way she’d been planning to for some weeks. She wanted to go out to Griffith Observatory with Mark and their parents for lunch before taking them on an expensive shopping trip down La Brea Avenue. After all, it wasn’t every day her little stepbrother turned 21. Yet the restrictions in her contract forced her to finish the job, regardless of her prior engagements or that slimy, self-aggrandising toad’s attitude problems.
Now it was up to her to make it up to Mark.
Reluctantly, she hit the button to shut off the water before throwing open the glass door. Wet and dripping, but feeling fully refreshed, she let the little rivulets of water run off her before stepping out from beneath the dripping shower head and onto the fluffy white bath mat that encircled the stall. Courtesy of the shower, her spacious ensuite was warm and misty, but a single open window hinted at the tiniest chill. Her skin prickled at the delicious contrast as she took a towel off the heated rail and patted herself down. Vigorously towelling her hair with one hand, she opened the door to her connecting master bedroom and sauntered inside.
Spacious and airy, she’d had its walls painted a passionate shade of crimson shortly after purchasing the property and furnished it with fittings of deep oak, making the room feel more intimate. Shafts of deep red light filtered through the gaps in the drawn curtains to flood the room with a natural illumination as the sun sank beneath the distant horizon. However, it was the south-facing windows and outer balcony, offering splendid views overlooking Beverly Hills, that made this her favourite room in the house.
She had already selected her clothes for tonight from the walk-in-wardrobe and had neatly laid them out across the queen-size bed’s black Egyptian cotton sheets. Forgoing underwear, she dropped the towel unceremoniously onto the floor and tugged her black slim jeans up her long, willowy legs and over her buttocks. She deftly fastened the buttons, then pulled a powder-blue, long-sleeved, babydoll-style top over her head. Though not tight or revealing, the thin fabric moulded to her still damp skin to leave nothing to the imagination. It made her feel naughty, and the thought of Mark seeing her like this ignited a warm tingling feeling in the pit of her stomach.
No! Stop it. That’s not why you’re going to see him.
When fully dressed, she crossed the bedroom in several quick strides to her dressing table, where arrayed around the oval vanity mirror, was a variety of jewellery boxes, perfumes, brushes, creams and other beauty utensils. Her likeness glowered back from within the glass.
Mina tried to picture the person who had been looking back at her five years before, and then the little nine year-old girl she’d been fifteen years ago. So much had changed. She felt older, drawn, and tired with the weight of a lifetime’s mistakes forever bearing down on her.
Yet still so much was the same.
The same wavy golden hair, angular features, and sparkling azure eyes that had won her that first audition peered back at her. She had been a meek, quiet child back then and her father had thought the experience might help her come out of her shell. He’d had to drag her to that audition kicking and screaming, after a director saw her perform the role of the Pied Piper in her school play and suggested she audition for a role in his new movie, Eternity’s Wisps. The film had been a low-budget B-movie, a science-fiction collage of Star Wars and Star Trek with just the smouldering, gritty hint of Sin City thrown in. It was the ill-born brainchild of a writer long past his best trying to rekindle the forgotten glory of the ‘80s space-race movies, and had held all the prospects for success as a thriller starring Robert Pattinson.
Considering her reflection, she took a shiny black comb inlaid with lapis in hand and began brushing the tangles from her hair until it framed her face and fell down past her shoulders in a wash of sun-kissed curls.
Had her mother looked like her when she was her age?
Mina often pondered the question, even though she knew she would never have the answer. She had not known her mother. She had been too young to remember when she had vanished into the night without a word. Her father never spoke of her, no matter how much she had pestered him. Out of respect for him, Mina had never searched for her, never hired a private investigator or reached out in any way, despite numerous offers from several prime time talk shows.
There were no photos of her in the house, no traces or details online. It was almost as if she’d vanished off the face of the earth and all Mina had left was a name.
Angela Willis.
The name brought her no comfort or rush of recognition however, but installed only the deepest sense of sadness that threatened to overwhelm her in a surge of suppressed emotion whenever she thought of it. She had questions, so many questions. Was her mother alive? Where was she? Why did she do it? Did Mina mean so little to her? Was it something she’d done? The list went on and on. She had forgotten how many times she’d asked herself those poignant questions and bore that inevitable, terrible weight of doubt and self-loathing. Yet, as much as she longed to know the truth, Mina had never wanted to hear the answers. Some things were better left unknown. And as much as people claimed it would set you free, the truth could be a far more bitter pill to swallow than ignorance.
Utterly engrossed in her thoughts and her grooming, she didn’t notice the figure coming up behind her, just out of sight of the mirror, and almost jumped out of her skin in fright when a pair of strong arms suddenly coiled around her waist and drew her backward. Without thinking, she made to lash out with the comb and break free of her captor, but then went limp, the makeshift shiv slipping from nerveless fingers as thin lips teased the sensitive place on the back of her neck, just behind her left ear. Her knees went weak and a low moan escaped her.
Only two men knew about that little spot.
“You look beautiful tonight,” Jason whispered against her throat, sending delicious shivers down her spine as his fingers slipped beneath the waistline of her top to glide across her flat stomach. A tingling sensation zipped down to her centre. Damn him, how did he always know just how to touch her?
“Mmm…thanks, but I really need to go-oh…I’m already running late and Mark’s party is-oh, god…” Words failed her as he began laying fiery little nips and kisses along the curve of her neck before ravenously gnawing on the sensitised tendons. She noted that he hadn’t shaved today and her toes curled at the feeling of his stubble-roughened chin as it brushed against her softer skin.
Jason William Scott Stoker had been her boyfriend for the better part of three years. They’d met while filming The Devil’s Messenger. He had been her co-star and character’s love interest, and they had instantly hit it off, their chemistry as sizzling off-screen as it was on. Though she couldn’t explain it, there was just something about his geeky sense of humour and Newcastle accent that she found enthralling. Seized by the passion of the moment, she swivelled in his arms to catch his lips in a hungry kiss while she tangled her fingers in his dark mop of frizzy hair.
The embrace was instantly hot and heavy. Taking the offensive, Mina eagerly curled a long leg around his thigh while she traced her tongue across his lips, demanding entry. Groaning a low sound, he acquiesced, his hands moving down the curve of her spine to paw her derrière through the tight denim. Though tall and lanky, he was uncommonly strong and she couldn’t help but utter her own low moan as he drew her closer, allowing her to feel the weight of his desire pressing against her, stoking the fire that suddenly burned inside her. Then their tongues met in a fierce dance, their teeth gnashing violently as they battled for dominance, manoeuvring blindly back towards the bed.
Almost knocking her heel on the bed’s heavy oaken frame, she trailed her fingers down his neck to press against his upper torso before she pivoted, breaking the embrace to send him tumbling to the bed. He had a handsome face, rugged with a defined jaw, an easy smile, and emerald-green eyes that could make her go weak in the knees with just one look.
Smirking at his stupefied expression, she bent over his prone figure, her hair spilling over her shoulders to glide lightly over his cheeks, and kissed him again, but it was only a chaste, teasing touch, a ghost of her former passion, and she drew back before it could develop into something more. Confused, Jason’s eyes narrowed and he shot her an incredulous look as she rose to her feet, but she met the stare with only an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, tiger, but I’m already late.” She pivoted on her heel and went back to the dresser. The mauled reflection that greeted her had her lips pressed together in a tight line. Nearly tutting in disgust at the sight of the red blotches on her neck and swollen lips, Mina shook out the dishevelled, and quite unrepairable ruin of her hair before tussling it with her fingers, trying to bring some order to the chaos.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
Her eyes darted to his reflection in the mirror. He was now propped up on the bed by his elbows, his eyes bright as he watched her with an almost lazy smile.
“No, its fine.” Casting a look across the cabinet, she selected one of her foundations and began applying it to the red marks. “This will just be a quick visit. Dad and Alexis are having dinner at Le C?ur de la Mer so Mark is having some friends from university round. I’ll just drop his gifts off, say sorry for missing him earlier and wish him a happy birthday. Then I’ll be on my way home.”
Jason's eyebrow quirked at her. “All that, just for a quick visit?”
Men!
Placing the cosmetic back on the dresser with a roll of her eyes, she then selected her favourite lipstick from the selection. “A girl has to look her best.”
“You’re always at your best. If only you’d let yourself see it.”
There was a depth of emotion in his voice Mina rarely heard there. It made her feel uneasy, as though the heavy knot in her gut was rising to block her throat. Her fingers trembled as she applied the lipstick and she tried to swallow, to force it down.
Don’t say it-
“I love you.”
She stilled, his words striking her like the crack of a bullwhip. Ice ran through her veins as their eyes met in the mirror and she saw the desperate pleading within them.
Please, not again.
At the end of her silent appeal, her mind ran to the two small, velvet-lined boxes he hid in the bottom draw of his bedside table beneath his socks. She knew he’d kept them. Had he bought another? God, she hoped not, since the thought of rejecting him again weighed like a stone in her heart. Why couldn’t he understand she wasn’t that kind of woman?
Jason frowned at her silence, then pushed away from the bed to sit straight-backed with a resigned sigh. “Can’t you say it. Just once?”
I wish I could
But she wouldn’t lie to him. Forcibly swallowing the lump in her throat, Mina closed the lipstick and placed it back amongst the others before wheeling around and giving him her best reassuring smile. It did not quite reach her eyes however. Almost cool, they held his imploring look as she walked towards the bed, her feet seeming to glide over the soft carpet without a sound. Then, she bent forward and rested both hands on the footboard, until his eyes were level with her breasts. She drew in a breath, just enough to lift the swells of her bosom and emphasize the way the very thin fabric stretched over her cleavage.
She wanted to love him, she really did. He was a good man, fun and dependable and deserving of someone much better than her. But her heart was a fickle bitch, devoting itself to a lover, opting to never truly open up. She’d seen where that road led and what came of giving herself to someone completely.
Despite himself, Jason’s eyes flickered downward at the movement and lingered there, the shape of his manhood rising sharp and strong against his jeans, tenting the otherwise slack denim. Mina smirked, her plush tongue darting out suggestively over her rosy lips. “Hold that thought for me, lover boy.” Jason’s eyes darted back up, but she was already backing away. “Wait up for me and I promise, when I get home, we can pick up where we left off.”
She felt cold steel against her fingertips as her hand blindly closed around the door handle. “Until then, here’s a little preview…” As her left hand pulled the door open, her right grabbed the hem of her top and dragged it up, flashing him a provocative view of her cleavage.
Then she was gone.
Her heart thundered with excitement as she bolted before the door had even closed behind her, a broad smile on her lips as she envisioned Jason chasing her through the house before having his way with her against the door. Pushing her top back into place, she almost ran down the house’s spiralling staircase into the airy foyer. Slipping on a designer pair of brown leather boots and the matching jacket, she grabbed her keys off the oak side table and the plastic shopping bag beside it containing Mark’s presents, before opening the ebony front door and stepping out into the cool evening air.
The sky was a dwindling tapestry of pink and orange beneath a sinking sea of violet, the sun long hidden behind the western horizon. Los Angeles was nothing but a ghostly silhouette, the city a prisoner in the twilight purgatory that divided night from day.
Bathed in the golden glow of the hanging iron lamp, she walked past the four huge columns of pale alabaster stone that supported the upper balcony, and down the porch’s three wide steps. In her wake, the heavy door slid shut with a booming bang.
Parked in the centre of the ringed pebble and coral driveway, and polished to a high shine, was her sleek, black, Luxury Ride Lexus RX 350.
Clicking the key to unlock the vehicle before pocketing the fob, she clambered into the driver’s seat, carefully placing the shopping bag in the passenger seat’s foot-space.
She dragged the door shut behind her, strapped on her seat belt, took off the handbrake, and pressed the ignition.
The engine bellowed to life, emitting a deep rumble that had the seat vibrating deliciously beneath her.
Mina slipped the shifter into drive and put her foot to the accelerator, sending the SUZ roaring forward.
Pressed back into her seat by the sudden motion, she drove around the doughnut-shaped driveway, passed through the high-arched, black iron gate that marked the end of her 1.2 acre estate as it swung open automatically at her approach, and without looking, turned sharply onto the winding street beyond.