Julia hadn’t meant to get into it with Bowen, but she couldn’t stop herself. “You didn’t? You created that group, Wishlist. You brought vulnerable teenagers into an atmosphere where hate and anger fester, all under the guise of helping them. Does Emily look like she’s been helped?”
Dillon put a hand on her arm.
“Emily is obviously a disturbed young woman,” said Bowen. “Ask her mother.”
He was baiting her, knowing about her history with Crystal. What else did he know? Did he use people’s fear and anger against them? Had he manipulated Emily like this? Subtly jabbing, picking at old scabs?
“Let’s look at the other painting,” Dillon said to her. “There’s food in the dining room.”
“Garrett?”
The woman in the red dress who had been with Bowen earlier approached them, a cautious smile on her face.
“I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Not at all, Marisa.”
Marisa smiled at Julia. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Chandler.”
“I’m sorry, have we met?” Julia took her hand.
“Not formally. I of course know about the Chandler family. Garrett has been giddy as a schoolboy about the Foundation’s support of Tristan’s work.”
“Tristan?” Julia asked.
“My nephew,” Bowen said. “Ms. Chandler, Dr. Kincaid, please meet Marisa Wohler.”
“Where’s Camilla?” Bowen asked her.
“She’s in the little girls’ room,” Marisa said. She smiled at Julia. “Cami is my daughter. Garrett is wonderful with young people.”
Something tickled Julia’s instincts. “Is that how you met?”
Marisa was about to say something when Bowen said, “Marisa, you haven’t spoken with Tristan yet.” He gestured toward the main living area where a tall, oddly attractive young man with a shaved head held court to a large group of admirers. “You’ll excuse us,” he said to Julia, avoiding eye contact.
Connor located some key computer files in Bowen’s office, but he didn’t have time just then to go through them. He hurriedly made electronic copies, then put the CD in his breast pocket. He made sure the desk was exactly as it had been when he walked in. He shut down the computer and started for the door.
The door opened when he was halfway across the room and Connor froze. Fortunately, he was no longer behind the desk.
“Who are you?”
Young and blond, she wore a skimpy dark-red gown that Connor wouldn’t mind seeing the counselor wearing. On the teenager, the sexy dress made Connor uncomfortable. His dad would lock his little sister Lucy in her room before letting her out wearing something so revealing.
Connor felt old.
“A guest,” Connor responded. “I was looking at the art in the halls and noticed the picture above the desk in here. Exquisite.”
“Garrett doesn’t like strangers in his office.” The girl walked over to him, utterly confident in four-inch heels. Slits up both sides of the gown ended at the top of her thigh. She put a hand on his chest. “But I won’t tell.”
Connor tensed. “There’s nothing to tell. Who are you?”
“Camilla Wohler. You can call me Cami.”
“Maybe I should ask what you’re doing upstairs.”
She laughed seductively, leaned forward and breathed into his ear. “My mother is dating Garrett.”
“How interesting.” Connor took a step back.
She shrugged, a pout on her face. “I don’t really care. I’m nineteen. If he makes her happy.”
Her tone was off. It wasn’t clear whether she really cared if her mother was happy, or whether she didn’t think Garrett Bowen was good for her.
This was an opportunity Connor couldn’t pass up. “Do you like Dr. Bowen?”
“I don’t hate him.” Cami touched his arm. “Nice tux. It’s not yours, though.”
Connor didn’t know why the observation made him uncomfortable. It’s not like he cared if he owned a tux or not. It was the girl’s tone, almost derisive.
“And you know this how?”
“You’re wider than the owner.” She put her hands on his shoulders. “And a half inch taller, I’d guess.” She glanced at his ankles.
True. The suit was his father’s, and while Connor and Patrick Sr. were both built roughly the same, Connor was a little bigger all around.
“You’re a fashion expert?”
“I’m an expert in a lot of things.” Cami leaned toward him, her mouth inches from his.
He took her hands off his shoulders and held her wrists. Instead of being shocked or hurt, Cami smiled. “You like it rough, don’t you?”
“Not with nineteen-year-old girls.” He took a step back.
She pouted, her bottom lip fuller, her eyes narrowing. “You don’t know anything about me,” she said.
“Nor you about me. We’re even.” He walked past her and to the door. He needed to get out of the room, not only before Bowen discovered him but to get away from Cami Wohler, who was very unlike the young women he was used to.
“Where are you going?” she demanded.
“Back to the party. I suggest you do the same.”
He didn’t wait for her to follow. He walked out and shut the door behind him.
Cami stared at the closed door. The arrogant bastard. How dare he call her a
The door opened and closed again. Skip came in. “Who was that?” he asked, angry.
“He was in here when I arrived.”
Skip walked over to her, grabbed her arms. “Did you have sex with him?”
She laughed. “Right, I just got down on my knees and gave him head. I don’t even know him.”
“Like that’s stopped you before.”
“Are you jealous?”
“No.”
Oh, was he jealous! She could play off that. Already the insults of the jerk who just left were fading. “I thought you might want to watch me fucking another man.”
His grip tightened.
She whispered, “You’re going to leave bruises.”
He jumped back, dropping her arms. He didn’t like marking her, especially where it could be seen. His dark fantasies were deeply hidden-as long as he couldn’t see the physical evidence of his anger, he’d do anything to her.
She walked toward him. “You love it. You want to put your mark on me. You want to draw blood and suck it like a vampire.”
“You’re sick.”
She exposed her right breast, the one he bit three nights ago in the heat of climax. The red welt his teeth made had turned dark purple, the individual bite marks still prominent. “You liked it.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t do that.”
“Of course you did. As you dug your nails into my ass and fucked me.”
“Stop it, Cami. Right now.” He tried to cover her up, but she slapped his hand. Skip slapped her across the face.
She laughed. “Tonight, when this is done, come to my apartment.”
“No.” He pulled the dress back over her breast.
“Yes!” She pushed him in the chest. “Don’t tell me no. We’re in this together. I can’t be here tonight to
