Capturing The Millionaire. Marie Ferrarella

and rented a vehicle to drive up to Santa Barbara. “It’s totaled?”

      This time she did consider his question. She really hadn’t paid that much attention to the condition of his car; she’d been more concerned with getting him out of the vehicle and out of the rain.

      “Maybe not totaled,” she allowed, “but it’s certainly not going anywhere anytime soon.”

      Suddenly the room seemed to be getting darker. Was the fire going out?

      Or was he?

      His ribs didn’t hurt anymore. Maybe he could pay her for the use of her own car, he thought. His head began to do strange things. Alain tried to focus. “I can’t stay here.”

      “Why not?” she asked innocently. “It doesn’t look as if you have much choice.” And then she added with a smile, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to charge you rent.”

      Thinking was rapidly becoming difficult for him. He needed to stay on point. “I’ve got places to go, people to see.”

      “The places’ll still be there tomorrow. And the day after that,” she added for good measure. “And if the people are worth anything, so will they.”

      Kayla had no doubt that the pill was taking effect. She should have given it to him in the first place, she thought, but she’d needed his input to see how bad he was. He was going to be asleep in a few more minutes, she judged.

      She sat down on the coffee table facing him. Taylor lowered his haunches and sat down beside her like a silent consort.

      “Right now,” she continued in a soft, soothing voice, “you need to rest. The roads are probably flooded, so you wouldn’t be going anywhere, anyway. Every time it rains like this, Shelby becomes an island.”

      “Shelby?” he asked groggily.

      “The town you’re passing through.” It was hardly a dot on the map. Most people didn’t even know they’d been through it. Leaning forward, Kayla placed her hand on his arm to make him feel secure. “I gave you something to make you sleep, Alain. Stop fighting it and just let it do its thing.”

      He liked the way his name sounded on her lips.

      The thought floated through his head without preamble. He was drifting, he realized. And his limbs were growing heavier, as if they didn’t belong to him anymore.

      “If…I…fall asleep…” He was really struggling to get the words out now.

      She leaned in closer to hear him. “Yes?”

      “Will…you…have your way with me now?”

      She laughed and shook her head. This one was something else.

      “No,” she assured him, not quite able to erase the smile from her lips. “I won’t have my way with you.”

      “Too…bad.”

      And then there was no more conversation. His eyelids had won the battle and closed down.