hate to see his harsh face, to see the condemnation in his eyes. He despised her. Then again, she despised herself, so at least they agreed on something.
More of the events of the night before had come back to her, though she still didn’t recall anything after she’d felt the dizziness and Greg had zoomed close and picked her up.
What was clear was that whatever had happened next, Ty Cameron had brought her to his ranch and put her to bed. Somehow he’d cut Gregory III out of the equation.
She hoped it had been before Greg had succeeded at anything. Logic told her that although her head pounded, she felt queasy, and her nerves were on edge, there were no other physical aftereffects of the night before. No permanent consequences, no sexual shame to endure. At least not from last night.
But her terror of being that vulnerable undermined logical thought. Since it was clear to her now that Greg had drugged her, how much more had he done to rob her of choice? Black memories stirred and she felt their poison rise.
A wave of dizzy fear made her falter at the wide doorway into the large, formal dining room.
If Greg had violated her, he must have discarded her in some public place, which accounted for Ty’s rescue. And Ty was a man of the world. He’d know at a glance what had been done to her. Oh God…
“You should see a doctor.”
Ty’s grim words were somehow a veiled confirmation of her worst fears. Tracy put out a hand to the door frame, her knees trembling almost too much to hold her up.
“D-did he…” She couldn’t put her worst fear into words. She struggled to make herself look at Ty’s stern face and braced herself for his answer.
Ty sat at the head of the polished table that was set for lunch. He wore the usual cowboy clothes, denim and chambray, and by now he’d probably put in a half day’s work. His hard gaze took her in, then settled on her pale face and sharpened. He knew what she was asking.
“Did he what? Take what you offered?”
Emotion stung her eyes but she held it back. “I didn’t.”
Cynicism flashed over his handsome face. “What did you think would happen when you got drunk with someone like Parker? No one’s that naïve.”
Tracy’s heart quivered with hurt. She swallowed convulsively and fought for a scrap of dignity.
“I need to get back to San Antonio. C-can I use your phone?” She hated that she’d stuttered. Hated that she’d shown him anything of the shamed horror in her soul.
“You can borrow a car. I’ll have it picked up later.” He nodded toward the place that had been set for her at the table. “Come in and have something to eat.”
Tracy knew absolutely that she wouldn’t be able to swallow a bite of food. Not Ty Cameron’s food, not at his table, and certainly not under his condemning gaze. At the mercy of whatever devastating remark he’d make next.
“I need to go home now. I have to be somewhere.”
The lie made everything so much worse. It was another grim weight on a conscience already too heavily burdened.
And Ty could tell it was a lie. The way he looked at her said so. The fact that he didn’t challenge it or remark on it let her know that honesty wasn’t a reasonable expectation where she was concerned.
Ty leaned back in his chair and slid a hand into his jeans pocket. He held up the keys he pulled out.
“The silver Cadillac at this end of the garage,” he said, then tossed her the keys. Tracy caught them, amazed she’d been able to do it.
Ty’s eyes sharpened on her again. “Good. You’ve got decent reflexes and coordination. People on the roads will be safe.”
That’s when she understood that tossing her the keys had been a test rather than a careless demonstration of disrespect.
“Park it in a good spot where it won’t get hit,” he went on. “Put the keys under the seat, lock them in, then call and leave a message where to pick it up.”
Which meant that he didn’t want to see her again, didn’t care to speak to her personally, hence the precise instructions. Because he meant to drive home the notion that he couldn’t stand her, that she was dirt under his boots.
Her soft, “Thank you,” was brittle. His vivid gaze held hers ruthlessly and she couldn’t seem to look away. He was searching deep, and probably seeing too much. It was a cinch he didn’t detect anything of value.
Tracy turned and walked away with as much outward dignity as she could summon. It was faked, of course. Just like almost everything she showed the world.
She let herself out the front door of the big ranch house, then winced. The noon sun was brutally bright. And hot. Hot enough to make her stomach pitch and the world go blurry. Her knees felt rubbery by the time she walked to the big garage and let herself in the side door. The dimness inside relieved only a little of the pain in her head.
Once inside the Cadillac, she adjusted the seat then couldn’t get the key in the ignition. Frustration made her fumbling worse. She was a wreck. Was she in any condition to drive back to town?
The alternative—that she’d have to face Ty again and seek his help—made her struggle to steady her hand and match the key to the ignition. This time, she succeeded. The big engine purred to life and she gave a relieved sigh. She could do this.
Tracy found the garage door remote on the visor and pressed the button. The big door motored open and she pushed the visor up.
But the visor dropped back down. The remote clipped to it fell into her lap. Tracy dutifully picked it up and clipped it on the visor before she turned to look over her shoulder to back the big car out of the garage. The sudden movement made her dizzy, but she ignored the feeling. The car rolled only a yard or so before the visor again tipped down and the remote again fell into her lap.
She should have left the remote where it fell or tossed it to the dash. Instead, she clipped it to the visor, pushed the visor up, then turned dizzily to continue slowly backing the car.
It moved only a couple of feet before she sensed the visor begin to tip down. Still turned to watch where she was going, she threw up her hand to keep it in place. Impatience made her hit the visor with more force than she’d intended.
And she must have triggered the button on the remote because the big door started down, though Tracy didn’t realize that until she saw the bottom edge of the door lower into sight.
Everything went weirdly wrong then. Still turned to back out, Tracy pressed down on the brake. At the same time, she felt for the remote on the visor and pressed the button, thinking the door would reverse and go up.
But the door didn’t stop. Alarmed, Tracy shoved down on the brake, but her foot slipped off the edge and the heel strap of her shoe caught. She jerked her shoe free and jabbed desperately for the brake.
She was too dizzy and uncoordinated to locate the brake pedal, but panic helped her manage it. Or so she thought. She’d expected to stop the car, so it was a shock when the big vehicle lurched backward. The massive door scraped heavily onto the trunk as it pressed relentlessly downward. The squawk of metal heightened her hysteria as the door scraped deeper along the trunk then hit the back glass of the car.
Car and door strained against each other, defying her effort to stop the nightmare as she made a last jab for the brake pedal. Suddenly the big car engine roared and the garage door popped out of its tracks.
In that next split second, Tracy realized she’d been pressing the accelerator. Horrified, she turned to face the windshield, pulled her foot off the gas and made a new try for the brake. The loud crash of the big door collapsing on the car roof was as loud as an explosion.
And then came the silence, that awful silence as the car idled peacefully and Tracy fought to understand what had happened. The wild staccato