As he opened the bedroom door and led her into the hall, he rested his protective hand at the small of her back. “I think Callie stashed something sugary and fattening in the fridge.”

Sugary sounded great about now. Once inside, they pulled out plates and forks and a massive piece of turtle cheesecake. With an indulgent grin, Axel took a bite and watched her devour half of it in less than a minute.

“That good?” he teased. “I couldn’t tell.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “If you don’t stop running off your mouth, I’m going to eat all this alone. You won’t get any.”

“I’ve gotten what I wanted.” He leaned closer and grabbed the arms of her chair, sliding her and the furniture closer to him. “I might want more of that.”

A flush raced to Mystery’s cheeks. Every moment with him just seemed easy and natural. They came from totally different worlds, and yet it was as if they’d been made for one another.

“I might give it to you.” She bit her lip.

Axel sent her a grin that showed off his dimples. “No ‘might’ about it. I plan to take you again . . . and again, until you beg me to stop. We’ll see if I have any mercy then.”

*   *   *

THEY ate in silence until most of the piece was demolished. Then Axel stood and started a pot of coffee. Mystery fell in beside him, washing off their plate, finding coffee cups and creamer. Then they waited together, and a sense of peace settled over him. Being with this woman was so simple, like breathing.

Not taking her up on her invitation to come inside her had been one of the most difficult things he’d ever done. And if he kept thinking about it, he’d pull her pants down, lay her across the kitchen table, fuck her senseless—and change his mind.

“I’m surprised your father let you come to the States without him,” he remarked. “He’s incredibly protective. And after what happened to you as a teenager, it’s no wonder.”

“The only way he’d let me make this trip ‘solo’ was with Heath. He wanted to send a whole team of people with me, but I argued that Aunt Gail lives in the middle of nowhere. It’s not like the paparazzi hang out there. And we’d certainly see any intruders coming a mile away. After World War Three, he finally relented.”

“I’m glad you came and your dad compromised.”

“I didn’t think he was going to.” She sighed. “And it sounds terrible, but whenever he’s in between girlfriends, he’s cranky.”

Axel laughed, refraining from pointing out that most men were when they weren’t getting any. “I’m sure he’d appreciate that observation. What was it like growing up with Marshall Mullins as a single father? Was he strict? Absent? Difficult?”

She shrugged. “All of the above. Of course, he knew I was always being watched. But after my mother’s death, he definitely hovered more, which only got worse after my abduction. It hasn’t let up since. As a kid, I missed my mom a lot. I think he did, too. But I have to admit, the house was more peaceful after she passed. They fought all the time.”

“About your dad’s love life?” Axel asked but he felt sure he knew the answer.

“Totally. He wasn’t even discreet about it half the time. At first, I guess he thought I was too young to understand why there were so many pictures of him out on the town with other women. I was about seven when he got slapped with his first paternity suit, but he wasn’t the father. I’m sure that was just luck, though.”

“Did your mom take the cheating hard?”

“Absolutely. When she’d had too much wine, she’d clutch their wedding album to her chest and ask herself what went wrong. I didn’t have an answer.”

“Of course not. You were a kid.”

“And I was angry with my dad. Furious. I spent most of my time with my mom, so I saw how all his cheating tore her apart. I’d never put up with that. I don’t know why she did for so many years.”

Axel nodded. She shouldn’t have to. No woman should. “Do you think she was depressed?”

“Absolutely. She took medication for it. I’ve asked myself over and over if her depression contributed to her death. But I don’t think she committed suicide.”

“I suppose she could fall off a cliff by herself, but she didn’t leave a note or give any indication she was ending it. In fact, hadn’t she contacted a divorce lawyer earlier that week?”

Mystery nodded. “She planned to divorce Dad and take him for half of everything. When she told him, he blew a gasket. That fight was epic. I remember hearing them in their bedroom have a shake-the-walls screamfest. They said some incredibly ugly things.” Mystery gave a hollow laugh. “My mom reminded him that he’d fucked most anyone in Hollywood who wore a skirt in the last nine years. He didn’t really have a reply, except to say she’d made mistakes, too. But she was totally serious about leaving. She’d even contacted a real estate agent about some property back in Kansas. My mom was making plans for a new life, not ending it.”

Axel agreed. Some of that had been public knowledge—even her terrible fights with her husband. Circumstantial evidence made Marshall Mullins look like the prime suspect. After all, that divorce would have cost him about ten million dollars. But Axel didn’t see the famous director as the murderous type. Granted, he might have hired someone . . . But there were holes in that theory, too, like the lack of a money trail.

“Why was your mother in Angeles National Forest that day?” he asked. If he wanted to get to the bottom of Mystery’s kidnapping, he’d have to start here.

“She called it her Zen place. Her dad had apparently taken her there as a kid on a camping trip, and she fell in love. Whenever she was upset or needed to clear her head, she’d drive out there. Sometimes, she’d take me, too. I was in school that day, so she didn’t.”

“Did you know she’d planned to drive to that spot?”

Mystery shook her head. “My mother was often very solitary. She liked being alone, especially when she felt off-kilter. She would pack up the car and disappear for a few hours. Sometimes more.”

How would Marshall Mullins have known exactly where in the forest his wife would be and when? Yes, he could have hired someone to follow her, and there had been lots of speculation that a thug from the Asian mafia he’d hired as a consultant for an upcoming film might have been persuaded to do some wet work for the famous director. But the criminal had wound up facedown in the Pacific a few days later, slaughtered by a rival, so they’d never really know. The only facts in evidence: Marshall and Julia Mullins had come to horrific blows over his cheating one morning, and she had threatened to divorce him. Less than six hours later, she’d been dead. He’d benefitted most from her untimely demise. And somehow, this involved their daughter.

“I know what you’re thinking.” She looked down at the hands she wrung in her lap, then raised big hazel eyes to him. “My dad didn’t do this. He might make a lot of movies about warriors and gritty cops, even that one about the serial killer, but he’s a pacifist at heart.”

Axel frowned. The man who’d sat across a table from him and watched as he and the squad had planned Mystery’s rescue had been all for blood if it brought her home. Axel didn’t burst her bubble. But he also didn’t believe Marshall Mullins had hired someone to kill his wife.

He shrugged. “We’ll figure it out. It’s time we put your mother to rest and gave you back your safety. Getting there might get bumpy, though.”

“I just don’t understand why the photo says I’d be safe in England.”

“I don’t know that we’re meant to understand a lot of things about this right now. Once we unravel everything, it will make sense.”

A sudden knock behind them made Axel tense. He whirled around in his seat, blocking Mystery from the door with his body. He fully expected to see Heath, ready to brawl now that he’d heard her in pleasure with another man. Bring it. Axel itched for a fight.