fractionally closer to her glossed lips. Wrapping herself in the ensuing laughter, she continued her routine....
* * *
HE WATCHED HER, pure hatred glistening in his eyes. Lifting his glass to his mouth, he listened as the audience responded to her. They were fools, all of them. Couldn’t they see what she really was? A user...and a whore. He saw through all her polish and glitter. When she smiled it made him want to stand and scream. Instead, he took a long swallow of his Scotch, enjoying the painful warmth as it slid down his constricted throat. He would be patient. Everything was planned.
As his eyes followed her movements across the stage, he played it all out in his mind. She’d beg, he knew that. Clearly he envisioned her huge eyes wide open and filled with the fearful certainty of her impending death. He’d make sure she suffered first.
Another response from the audience jarred him back to the present. Fixing his eyes on her, he was careful not to reveal any emotion. The sheer hose encasing her legs shimmered in the lights. He would wait until the time was right.
* * *
“YOU’VE BEEN GREAT! Thanks!” Destiny bounced off the stage as the audience chanted her name.
“You were hot tonight!” David Crane, her manager, said as he handed her a towel.
“Thanks!” she said and took the glass of water thrust in her direction. “This was my best show yet!”
“You say that every night,” David countered as his hand went to the small of her back, leading her in the direction of her dressing room.
“Tonight was...I don’t know, I just felt a certain electricity from the audience. It was a rush!”
Pushing open the door for her, David nudged her inside the small dressing room. The scent she had grown to detest brought on a sudden paralysis. It was the heavy, sweet aroma of gardenias. A chill, fierce and overpowering, settled on her like a heavy blanket.
“Blast it!” David bellowed.
She stood frozen just inside the door. David pushed past her and went over to the offensive pot of blossoms. Slowly he pulled the small white rectangle from among the flowers and tore into the envelope.
Chapter One
The flight from Miami to Charleston went smoothly, except for Destiny’s lingering anxiety over the gifts she’d received the previous evening.
“Hopefully, he’ll stay in Miami,” she said to Gina as they sat in the back seat of a cab.
Gina frowned. “Don’t bet on it. He’s managed to make all your club dates for the past six months.”
A shiver racked her small frame, but she said nothing. Gina, her personal assistant, had already suggested that she cancel this last engagement just to be on the safe side.
“Maybe he’s tired of hearing the same material over and over,” she said, forcing some lightness into her tone. “Maybe that detective David hired will figure out who he is.”
Destiny felt the corners of her mouth turn down. The detective had missed their last meeting, so she had little faith that the rumpled detective had come up with anything substantial.
“Forget my fervent fan,” Destiny told her friend. “Let’s focus on something more upbeat, like the possibility of the network picking up my pilot.”
Gina sighed and leaned her head against the back of the seat. “I could get used to L.A.,” she said wistfully. Her hand automatically moved to her right leg, rubbing the carefully hidden scar Destiny knew ran the full length of her thigh. “The weather out there will do my leg some good. Might even take up roller blading.”
Destiny laughed. “I think your doctor would nix that idea.”
She watched as Gina’s expression grew sad. “From graceful model to limping lump, all in one night.”
Destiny said nothing. There was nothing to say. Nothing she hadn’t said time and time again during the four years since the accident.
“That’s Fort Sumpter,” the driver announced as they wove their way over the uneven streets of Charleston.
“Maybe we’ll take a day and sightsee,” Destiny suggested.
“You never sightsee,” Gina countered. “You’re always too busy working on perfecting your routine.”
“Am not.”
“Are too.”
“Wrong.”
“Right,” Gina huffed. “And I like David.”
Rolling her eyes, Destiny wasn’t in the right frame of mind to rehash the long-standing rivalry between the duo. David and Gina were her friends as well as her employees. Besides which, Gina, she had learned, didn’t like too many people. She was Destiny’s exact opposite. And a definite thorn in David’s side. Sometimes she had the distinct impression that Gina went out of her way to make David’s job harder. This trip was a perfect example. David had arranged for them to stay in one of the swankiest hotels in downtown Charleston. Gina had made arrangements for them to rent two of the villa units at the beach outside the city. Of course, it left Destiny in the uncomfortable position of choosing between the two. It was a no-win situation, and she was currently on David’s list because she’d chosen the beach over the city.
“Wait!” she called out suddenly.
The cabby brought the car to a screeching halt.
“What?” the driver and Gina said in unison.
“There’s The Rose Tattoo,” she said, pointing to the historic building with the wooden sign in front. “Let’s stop in.”
“What about our luggage?” the ever-practical Gina noted.
“You go on to the beach, then come back,” Destiny instructed as she opened her door. “Take as long as you need. I’d love to get a feel for the place.”
“You can do that tomorrow.” Gina was still grumbling when Destiny closed the door and walked across the black-and-white-checkered tiles leading up to the front door.
Her hand closed on the brass handle and she gave a tug. Nothing. She tugged again as her eyes found the hours listed on a rectangular sign in the window.
“Great,” she grumbled, checking her watch, then squinting against the early-morning sunlight. Destiny was about to turn back toward the street in search of a cab when a deep, sexy voice stopped her dead.
“It’s you,” he said as he pulled open the door.
She had to concentrate hard to keep her mouth from dropping open in an appreciative response to this gorgeous man. “Must be sunstroke,” she said under her breath before flashing him her brightest smile.
His stomach knotted as if an elephant had kicked him—hard. She was even more beautiful than the photograph hanging above the bar. On more than one occasion, he had cynically remarked that the picture had to have been retouched. It wasn’t possible for any living creature to be that beautiful, that perfect. He was wrong.
“Destiny Talbott,” she said as she offered him her dainty hand.
Her skin was warm and soft, a perfect complement to the deep tan that naturally heightened the unusual shade of her eyes. And the way the sun shimmered off those long tresses of pale blond hair—he swallowed as he reluctantly dropped her hand.
“Do you have a name?” she asked, a teasing look in her eyes.
The fraction of a second it took him to recall his own name seemed to amuse her all the more.
“Wesley Porter,” he mumbled, feeling his cheeks warm slightly as he ushered her inside the empty restaurant.
His palms were actually moist by the time