and he felt a tug of awareness low in his groin. She looked back down at the equipment. “What you see here are the basics: harness, carabiners, camalots, wired hexes, stoppers, a helmet, a chalk bag and a couple of different types of belay devices.”
The group gathered round as she went over each of the different items. She held up a bundle of rope. “This line is static—no give. It’s used for jugging up or rappelling down a mountain.” She held up another bundle. “This is a seventy-meter bundle of climbing rope. It’s a light, strong, dynamic line with low impact force—designed so that if you fall, there’s enough give to help your body absorb the shock when you hit the end.” She gave them a few moments to examine the items and answered a couple of questions.
“You’ve all got climbing slippers,” she said. “Go ahead and put them on. And if you have your own harness, put that on. If not, we’ve got some here for you to use.”
The group suited up. Autumn was wearing trim-fitting khaki shorts with oversize pockets and a sleeveless, orange, scoop-neck top that said I LEAD, YOU FOLLOW. Since Ben had anticipated needing them, he had picked up a pair of leather-topped, rubber-soled climbing shoes at his downtown store. He sat down on a bench to put them on, making a mental note to follow Autumn’s suggestions for the rest of the gear he would need.
He had told her the truth. He had been seriously thinking of giving the sport a try and this presented the perfect opportunity.
Far more important, this gave him some time. He wasn’t ready to involve himself in what was surely a wild-goose chase that could cause more misery for him and his family. Then again, as crazy as the whole thing sounded, after the lengths she had gone to, he wasn’t prepared to discount the slim possibility that Autumn Sommers might actually have some sort of bizarre psychic connection to his daughter and there was a chance Molly was still alive.
He had to ferret out the truth about Autumn and the only way to do that was to spend some time with her.
He looked down at the gear on the table. He would check with the guys in the climbing department but he had a feeling Autumn knew as much about choosing the right gear as they did. Maybe more.
“I’ll go first,” she said. “That way you can watch the way I take the wall.” She looked over at Ned. “You’ve handled a line before, Ned. How about working the rope for me?”
“No problem.” There was a length of rope looped over a bar at the top of the wall. Ned, apparently the most experienced student in the group, ran one end of the line through the belay device on his harness while Autumn tied a double figure-eight into hers, securing the rope to the belt around her waist.
“When I come down, it’ll be your turn,” she said to the group. Her gaze ran over the cluster of students until she came to him. “I think today we’ll start with Ben.”
Autumn’s eyes locked with his and Ben almost smiled. She was testing him. He could see it in those tilted cat-eyes. She didn’t like the ground rules he had set, but she had no choice except to go along with them. He took a look at the wall. It was forty feet high. Some walls went to eighty.
The floor in front was protected by a thick foam-rubber vinyl-covered mat but it wouldn’t be enough to prevent injury if the climber took a fall from the top. Autumn coated her small hands with the dry, white, resin-like climber’s chalk and headed for the wall.
Autumn’s sure hands and small feet searched and found the tiny niches and crevices in the holds as she made her way up the wall with skill and a fluid grace.
Ben found himself watching with fascination the movement of the muscles in her arms and legs and the way her buttocks tightened under her shorts as she moved higher and higher up the wall. Her waist was small, her breasts nicely rounded. His groin clenched almost painfully and he muttered a curse.
The last thing he needed was any sort of physical attraction to Autumn Sommers. He had no idea who she really was or if any of what she had told him was real.
He fixed his concentration on Autumn who had reached the top of the wall and was now smoothly riding the rope Ned held back down to the bottom. She was good. That much was clear. She made the sport look easy and he knew damned well it wasn’t.
Once she returned to solid ground, she centered those green eyes directly on him. “Your turn, Ben.”
Eight
Class was finally over. Thinking that everyone had left the gym, Autumn began to bag her gear, concentrating on stowing everything properly.
“I enjoyed your class today.”
She looked over her shoulder to find Ben McKenzie just a few feet away. “I didn’t realize you were still here. I thought you’d be anxious to get back to work.”
“I am. I wanted to ask if you were busy tonight.”
Autumn eyed him warily. “Not really.” Not unless watching an old movie on Turner Classics was busy. “Why?”
“I told you before—I need time to get to know you. I’ll come by your place after I leave the office…say six-thirty? We’ll go over to my downtown store and you can help me pick out the climbing gear I’m going to need. It shouldn’t take all that long.”
She didn’t want to go with him. He made her nervous in a way she couldn’t quite explain. But she needed his help and she couldn’t think of a reason to say no. “All right.”
Ben left her to finish her task and she carried her gear back to her locker. She had a couple of private lessons that afternoon then afterward stopped in at Barnes and Noble to pick up a few new paperback books, since she felt at a loss if she ran out of something to read.
Ben arrived in her lobby at six-thirty, but insisted on coming up instead of letting her come down to meet him.
“I want to see where you live,” he said over the intercom. “A person’s home says a lot about them.”
She didn’t like the idea. She didn’t want Ben McKenzie barging into her home—her life—but she didn’t see any other way to get his help. Without it, Molly would never have a chance to be found.
She was nervous as she opened the door. She loved her cozy apartment, but Ben McKenzie was rich and used to living in far higher style. Since their discussion at Luigi’s on Monday, she had gone back to the library and run his name. Over the past few years, article after article had appeared in the society section, showing Ben at benefits, plays and opening night concerts—escorting some of the most glamorous women in the world. Apparently, he was wildly successful in his business endeavors and equally successful with women.
He stepped through the open door, his eyes darting into the compact kitchen with its sparkling white countertops and cheerful white-and-rose flowered wallpaper, moving past the breakfast bar that separated the area from the living room. “So this is the place you call home.”
She managed a smile. “This is it. Would you like a glass of wine or something else? I keep a bottle of Jack Daniels up in the cupboard for my dad. He isn’t really supposed to drink, but he’s pretty hard-headed about it and I figure a little whiskey once in a while isn’t really going to hurt him.”
“Wine sounds good.”
“Red or white?”
He
