Seducing the Stargazer Page 2

  This time she would make use of their game and get her favor. She needed to give him a chance to clean up his disaster. However, once they returned to Los Angeles, she would make sure one Dr. Garner Knox received a friendly reminder on how she saved his probe. His media connections with the Selene Satellite were perfect to secure her telescope time. She only had one window of opportunity and this was her last chance to book a front row seat for her Martian moons research.

  In a sheer stroke of luck, she ended up in the back in the main room with all the gathered guests right as Garner returned to the podium. At least she could find out if the man would do the right thing and mention her name.

  The second he stepped up to the microphone, everyone quieted. As usual, all eyes were on him.

  “The mission has been aborted,” the same female countdown voice announced.

  Once again the crowd livened up, their chatter rumbling through the room.

  Garner pointed to the clock as it hit zero. Everyone silenced and waited for a word from their star. The man was a living, breathing incarnation of what could happen when luck, technology, and charisma converged. When a video of him winking and smiling at a press conference about sunspots became an Internet sensation, he rocketed to stardom as the sexy stargazer. Where other viral stars made one big splash and then disappeared, Garner sustained his fame, propelling his special kind of pop astronomy into a career. He was the spokesperson for the universe, the go-to man for all news space related. Now between his family’s money and what he made from being a digital dream, he was worth well into eight figures. His life was charmed, except of course for this whole mess with Personal Space. It was no secret he had invested a tidy sum in the company. The day he became their official spokesperson, their net worth blasted off.

  “Science is dynamic,” he said. “Space is unforgiving.”

  Wynn leaned back against a corner and waited.

  “Today, in the last few minutes before launch, we discovered something that could potentially compromise the mission, and though success can never be guaranteed on any level, we definitely want to always put the odds in our favor.” His tone came out even, cool, and collected.

  Favor seemed to be the word of the day and she pressed her lips together, waiting for him to acknowledge her.

  “Dr. Knox, can you give us specifics on why the launch has been aborted?” a reporter called.

  “Above all else, we will always do what is right for the public, our investors, and the space community at large. The launch will be rescheduled. Personal Space is stronger and more secure than ever. Thank you.” He held his hand up as if trying to stop any further questions. Wynn wondered if anyone realized he never answered the question.

  “Who is Dr. Winchester Carlsbad? Does she work for you? What role does she play in this cancellation?” the same reporter asked.

  Wynn held her breath.

  He stepped closer to the microphone. “We have no further statement at this time.” With his words out, he left the stage. Left without any details, without acknowledging her, without anything. He created a perfect cliffhanger to keep the investors and the media at bay while still keeping the company relevant as they prepared for another launch.

  The whole private-sector space program was built on the promise of profit, not for discovery and science. With the universe at their disposal, all they saw were dollar signs, not stars. Wynn shook her head and waited.

  The man vanished in a vapor trail that only left everyone confused and never once had he mentioned her name. Along the way he forgot that the first rule in science was to give credit where credit was due.

  Yes, she could go up to that podium and speak, tell the media and the public the truth—she was the one who saved the struggling private space agency. Perhaps it would even help the company out a little.

  However, rather than take her rightful place, explain what happened, what she found, she stomped away. Recognition wasn’t what she was after, but she could add this into the column of what he owed her. Unfortunately, she couldn’t add her pride to the list. No matter if she stopped a rocket launch or landed on Mars herself, she would never get back what she lost to Garner long ago.

  Heat rippled off the asphalt as she made her way through the parking lot and back to the car. She opened the door and got inside the hot, stifling confines. Though the air conditioning stopped working long ago, once she got on the road and rolled the windows down she would get some air.

  She shoved the key in the ignition to start the car. The gears ground together in a sick protest against the desert heat.

  “Giddyap, girl.” In any attempt to put the cosmic forces, or in this case the transportation forces, on her side, she patted the dashboard and tried again.

  Her car, the same one she had owned since she earned her undergraduate degree, let out a sick, struggling sound.

  All right, maybe this happened more often than she liked, and with greater frequency lately, and perhaps she should have realized the car might not perform all too well after a three-hour drive, but she needed a favor from any power that controlled motors and gear shifts. While finances smiled on Garner, she had been saddled with student loans and personal loans to get through her doctorate work, and she delayed getting a newer car.

  She took a breath and made a mental deal with the universe. If she could drive back to California, she would part with some of her hard earned savings, stop at the nearest used car dealership and put her car out to pasture. Her last mechanic wouldn’t even give her a warranty to make it around the block.

  She closed her eyes and turned the key once last time.

  The universe betrayed her. The car only made a sad click, as if it were taking one last gasp for air before going under.

  Before she ended up with a gaggle of true rocket scientists around her all thinking they possessed the knowledge to fix her car, she retrieved the popsicle stick from her glove box she stored for precisely this purpose, and got out. Her heels ground into the gravel and she popped the hood, glared down at the disobedient engine then located the carburetor.

  “I can’t believe you still have her.” Garner walked around the car and patted the fender. “Good old Ethyl.”

  “It’s nice of you to remember someone’s name.” Though why he remembered the name of her car was beyond her.

  “Is that what you want? Some publicity? I think the fact you just wrecked a launch and possibly a company will give you plenty,” he snarled at her.

  Rather than answering, shaking her head, or stooping to his level and flashing a smile, she shoved her stick into the proper spot.

  “Giving her some much needed respiration I take it.” He stood close, too close, near enough that his cologne swirled around her. Where other men would smell of earth, stability, and rustic masculinity, his scent was of fantasy, fire, and fairytales, something she wished she realized five years ago.

  Yes, she needed to get some air in the system then her engine would get up and go, and she could as well. Her popsicle stick would open the carburetor and let the air flow. “Seems as if everything and everyone needs a breath of fresh air.”

  “Is that what you need?” he asked.

  Since he opened up the line of questioning, she might as well lay her cards on the table. “I need two things, Dr. Knox. I need telescope time on the Selene Satellite, and I need to get out of here.” Without bothering to give him another glance, she stomped around the car and slipped back inside. Her only hope was she would be able to speed away from Garner Knox, leaving him in nothing but a cloud of gravel and dust.

  Without making any deals with the universe and relying purely on what she knew to be true, she turned the key.

  Instead of the sweet purr of her engine coming to life, nothing happened, and by nothing, she meant nothing, not even that horrible click.

  Garner stepped closer.

  As his shadow darkened the interior of the car, she stared straight ahead and tried to asse
ss her next step. If she hurried, maybe she could catch a ride with any other science type person going anywhere in the opposite direction from Garner.

  “Looks like you got yourself quite a predicament.” He kneeled and the sun’s rays shot right into her eyes. The man made a lousy shade. “Why didn’t you just ask me for the time on Selene, why all the theatrics?” he asked.

  They both knew the answer, but she would ask her question anyway. “Would you have given it to me?”

  “Not a chance.” His tone was final and honest.

  “Then you have the answer to your question.” She had to get out of here.

  “Perhaps you need something more than telescope time.” His tone mocked her.

  “I told you what I need. I am fine. I planned for this contingency.” Would it be considered reckless abandonment, if she simply walked away from the car and left it in the desert forever?

  “You planned to not be able to make a clean getaway?” One of those smiles, the kind that said he knew much more than her and he was simply waiting for her to realize it, lit up his face.

  Not wanting or needing to engage him further, she grabbed her briefcase and found her cell phone. She would call a tow service or whatever service one called to get rid of a vehicle. “Dr. Knox, I’m sure you have public to attend to, funds to raise, flying saucers to launch or aliens to capture.”

  “While all those things are important and pressing, equally as vital is discussing the fact that not only did you crash my press conference, but now you have the media wanting to know who you are.” He glanced at his watch then back to her. “My guess is you have less than three minutes before they discover you’re out here.”

  “I’m not afraid of the media, my research speaks for itself,” she shot back.

  “Great, then here’s your time in the spotlight. However…”

  Out of the corner of her eye she glanced at him.

  “However,” he repeated, “my stellar instinct tells me that you may not want to talk to the media and explain why you didn’t use the proper channels to contact Personal Space. What if you were late? What if Ethyl broke down on the road and you couldn’t stop us in time? Seems as if you were taking a big gamble. Also, last time I checked, your research was with Venus. Why were you looking at Mars?”

  Even with the sun beating down on her, she froze. He knew Mars was her pet planet.

  She swallowed. A few of Garner’s accusations may or may not be true. Fine, they were true. She had the media after her and an employer that wouldn’t be too thrilled when they found out she broke several protocols. Of course, the asteroid wasn’t part of her director’s research.

  “I think maybe I can help you get that breath of fresh air,” Garner said. As if he timed it, and no doubt he had, a long black limousine pulled up beside her wreck.

  There was not a hole big enough she could crawl into and her cheeks heated.

  “If you need a ride, I’m happy to oblige, Winnie.” He pulled the star out of his shirt pocket. “I can have you back to Los Angeles in less than two hours, consider it my favor to you, and I’ll just keep this.”

  “What, are we going to take one of your magic rockets?” No way could she give up her telescope time for a ride to Los Angeles and being rescued from the media.

  “Well, I have something that may be a little slower but much more cost effective.” He stood. “As you reminded me, rocket fuel is expensive.”

  The chauffeur walked around the limousine and opened the back door. “Dr. Knox, your flight is ready for you whenever you are.”

  Wynn shielded her eyes and gazed up at him. The man had money to burn.

  “Something tells me a ride on a private plane aircraft may suit you a little better than trying to push Ethyl home.” At stating the obvious, he gave her a wink. “Plus, we have a few things we need to discuss, Dr. Carlsbad.”

  He still had the plane. From the time she first met him the man always wanted to travel, escape. His family always had the means to buy the world, even the universe, and he traveled at a moment's notice. She dared to face him head on. “What is that?”

  “Come with me and you’ll find out.” He crossed his arms. “One flight back home and then you can walk away and deal with the fallout all by yourself. Then again, maybe I can make it better. Just one flight.”

  Her muscles tensed with the need to slap him across the face. How dared he even refer to the one night they shared back in their doctorate program. Of course, back then it was one night not one flight, and one night was all that ever happened. The man hadn’t even glanced her way when they received their degrees.

  Once more she tried turning the key in her car.

  Nothing. Not even a sound.

  “I think Ethyl has made your decision for you.” He kept his hand outstretched. “Actually, you made the decision the second you found that asteroid. I better start thinking of my favor.”

  She leaned over to gather up items, sighing at the sight of her favorite lipstick melted all over her purse and papers. The sundae had definitely melted, leaving her with a sad mess rather than a decadent dessert. She grabbed her wallet, keys and cell phone, swiped his hand away and got out of the car. “Your favor is that I’m going with you. I still want my time.”

  “One conversation and I’ll tell you my favor on the plane, Dr. Carlsbad.” He stood in front of her. “You’ll be amazed how easy I’ll make it for you. If you accept you can ask me for that telescope time again, after you do my bidding.”

  “One flight, one conversation, and we remain fully clothed.” With a shake of her head, she pushed past him and slid across the soft leather of the limo.

  Garner took the seat across from her. “I knew I should have put more conditions on our reunion.”

  “One flight, one conversation.” Last time she owed him a favor she gave up part of heart. What would she have to give up this time?

  Chapter Three

  For the second time in her life, Wynn took a ride in a limo. The first time was at her high school prom when she went with a more popular guy who had a ton of friends. They had jammed five couples into the rented vehicle and she ended up pressed up against one of the doors, praying that no one threw up on her.

  Sort of like sitting across from Garner Knox, PhD, only she was the one who wanted to vomit.

  The man might be a pop culture star of astronomical proportions, but in truth he should have been a politician or a lawyer. He was an expert in getting other people to do what he wanted under any circumstance.

  Who was she kidding? She had to take him up on his offer, even if it meant temporarily giving up her fight for the telescope. It was either fly home with him or end up trying to figure out how to haul her heap of a car back to California and doing damage control at work, all the while still wondering what Garner wanted to talk to her about.

  Why did it matter?

  On the way to the airport, she stared at the lonely desert landscape trying to figure out how she ended up no better off than one of Garner’s groupies, or as she liked to call them, science sluts.

  “Let me ask you something.” Garner interrupted her thoughts.

  “And so it begins.” Somehow she had to prepare herself for the next few hours with Garner.

  “How often do you think about me when it doesn’t relate to bringing down an entire mission?” He leaned back against the seat and produced one of those stellar smiles with an extra added dimple for good measure.

  Case in point, his question. She crossed her legs and fought the need to turn away. “I saved your mission.” In no world would she allow him to best her, and she reminded herself to keep her wits about her.

  “Some would say you saved it. Some would say you sabotaged it.” The smile disappeared and he stared at her. “But we aren’t talking about that yet. I want to know how often you think about me.”

  “You’re all over the media every second. It’s quite tiresome.” Rather than engage any furth
er in his games, she studied her wallet. She opened the little leather square and assessed her ID, credit card and bankcard, no errant receipts, business cards or scraps of paper. Apparently, she had the most boring wallet on the planet.

  “Maybe I need to be more specific.” His tone lowered. “Forget asteroids, forget the Internet and television. When you are by yourself and it’s quiet and you’re lying in bed waiting for sleep and you look out your window and can see a few stars in the sky, in those precious moments where your mind is clear of thoughts of data and gamma rays, do you think about me?”

  At his words and the way they rolled out of his mouth like a smooth, well-rounded wine, her stomach dropped. She pressed her lips together. How did one even answer that question? If he asked the question, he must think about her. Not that she wanted to know. “What about you?” Or maybe she did want to know. Yes, she wanted to know.

  He raised his eyebrows and leaned forward. “Do you want the truth?”

  Her throat dried out. Again, another question she couldn’t answer.

  Caught in a standstill, neither of them said a word.

  In only what could be called a stroke of luck, the car stopped and the chauffeur opened the door. “We are at the airport, Dr. Knox.”

  A quick peek out the window told her they weren’t only at the airport, they were in front of the plane.

  She never got used to the fact that on a private flight security was taken care of for them.

  Garner held up his hand. “Before we get out of the car, tell me your answer.”

  “Is this part of the conversation we’re having?” She clutched her items and inched toward the door.

  “Are we limited on topics?” He lifted his chin.

  “I would think you needed to know more about my research, or do you not care about it?” The chauffeur offered her his hand.

  “And what are you trying to say?” he barked at her.

  “That science never mattered to you.” She allowed the chauffeur to help her out of the car. No, all the science, the research, the study wasn’t for him. Yes, he earned his PhD, but it was the easy way out, and he was such a good salesperson, everyone ate it up.