Escorting the Billionaire (The Escort Collection 1)

* * *

I realized later that, of course, she’d actually admitted nothing.

Celia had just confirmed my worst fears about her. I paced through the villa, jumping at every little sound. Finally James came back, and I unlocked the door for him. He was loose and happy; he looked sexy and tan and he smelled like beer.

He watched me pace back and forth, a quizzical look on his face. “Audrey,” he said, “we’re in paradise. You’re supposed to be relaxing. It doesn’t look like that’s working out too well for you.”

I clenched and unclenched my fists. “I ran into your mother on the way back here.”

“Great,” he said, rubbing his face. “What’d she do now?”

I stopped dead in my tracks. “You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“My mother is crazy.”

“She actually is, James,” I said, fiddling with my hands nervously. “She threatened me.”

“She threatened you yesterday.”

“This was a real threat,” I said, watching his face. “She said that I would never move in with you. That something bad would happen to me first. And that Preston ‘luck’ would take care of it.”

James was looking at me but it was as if he wasn’t seeing me.

“What?” he asked finally. “What were her exact words?”

I swallowed hard. “‘Something bad will happen to you. These things have a way of working themselves out. It’s Preston luck.’”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s sort of branded into my memory by fear,” I said.

“Holy fuck,” James said.

“That’s exactly what I said.”

* * *

“She killed Danielle. Or arranged to have her killed…” James was sitting on the bed, still looking but not seeing. “I can’t believe this.”

“She didn’t admit to anything, James. She just used that phrase, and it was like a lightbulb went off for me. But she doesn’t know what you told me. And no matter what really happened, she didn’t actually kill her—she was home with you when Danielle died, right?”

He nodded numbly.

“So it wasn’t her. Not directly, anyway. Maybe she felt she was responsible for making Danielle so upset that night—maybe that’s what she meant.”

“My mother’s not really a loose-ends kind of person. If she’d wanted Danielle… permanently out of the picture… I don’t think she’d leave it up to chance,” James muttered. He sounded sick. “I just hadn’t thought she was capable of something like this. I underestimated her—or maybe I was overestimating her, now that I think about it.”

“Do you think she hired someone? Or had something done to her car?” I’d run through the list of possibilities earlier as I’d paced, waiting for James to come back, filled with dread as I’d imagined the different scenarios.

James nodded. “Either one of those is a distinct possibility.” His eyes finally focused on my face. “I can’t believe I never considered this before. I feel sick.”

“You were just a kid when it happened. And you can’t blame yourself for not thinking your mother could have killed someone. That’s not in the normal repertoire of maternal behavior.” I shivered just thinking about it.

“And now she’s threatening to hurt you.” James reached out for my hand. “I’m so sorry I’ve dragged you into this mess. I can’t even believe this is happening right now.”

“That’s because it’s unbelievable,” I said, squeezing his hand.

James