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“The New Temple?” Gia asked.

He shook his head. “No, a smaller organization run by a Rasputin-type character named Vladimir Tomoriv, a Russian import with all of McClarin’s charisma and sex appeal, but not as much smarts for the financial side of swindling. I tried to warn Dharma off, but Tomoriv’s church—it was called God’s Chosen Few—promised her a place to belong and told her she was unique . . . one chosen out of many. She lapped up their attention and the special treatment built into the psychological mind-fuckery of a cult because she was starved for it. Long story short, she was dead within six months.”

“How?” Gia asked, startled.

“Exposure was the official cause, although when she was found dead in Franklin Canyon Park, she was also extremely malnourished and dehydrated. I noticed her losing weight, even while we were still filming. But according to her, this organization had her going through some kind of ‘purification’ ritual in order to reach the ‘next level,’ ” he muttered derisively, anger edging his tone. “It was just a way to break her down psychologically, make her more malleable to their indoctrination. When I informed the police about her involvement with the organization, they dragged their feet about investigating. The cause of death wasn’t murder, and no members of the cult could be linked to her presence in the canyon. I tried to confront Vladimir Tomoriv myself once, but he just spouted some new-age fiction at me and ran. It really galled me, to think of them getting away with the murder of an innocent girl. It was like . . .” he faded off, frowning, “she was disposable goods. Her death meant she hadn’t passed the test or something. They professed to be her mother, father, brother and friend. When she died, the God’s Chosen Few acted like Dharma Jana had never existed. They figured she hadn’t really been one of them after all.”

She glanced aside, her heart seizing slightly when she noticed how rigid his profile and posture looked. His regret over Dharma’s death was palpable, despite his even, matter-of-fact tone. No wonder he’d understood her without words earlier when they’d spoken of Sterling McClarin. He seemed personally affronted by the cult leader’s antics.

“I’m sorry,” Gia said sincerely. He waved his hand as if to say that’s life, right? But Gia wasn’t buying his nonchalance. “It wasn’t your fault, Seth.”

“I know it wasn’t. But you can’t help but wonder if you did enough, that’s all.”

This was the real reason he’d sacrificed his time and put up with the inconvenience of their trek across the country. Of course, it hadn’t related to her personally, she acknowledged with a sinking feeling.

“Were you involved with her?” she asked.

“Who? Dharma?”

Gia nodded, her gaze glued to the road. Why had her heart started to beat uncomfortably fast upon asking the question?

“You mean was I sleeping with her?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course not,” he said with quiet disdain. “Haven’t you been listening? I don’t get involved with actresses, especially a fragile one like Dharma. I tried to be a friend to her. Not that it worked.”

A silence settled between them. He seemed as thoughtful as she was.

“But Dharma, and other women like her,” Gia said after a while. “Are they the reasons you routinely don’t date actresses? Because they’re vulnerable and needy, and often don’t show the best judgment?”

He exhaled, making a frustrated sound. “No. Not entirely. I know you say it’s prejudice on my part, and maybe it is,” he said stiffly. “But it’s my experience. I’m not saying every actress is as fragile as Dharma. Far from it. It’s more than that.”

He glanced aside and noticed her raised eyebrows.

“Personalities and weaknesses of character aside, two people who are both part of this business shouldn’t be involved. It’s too much craziness and not enough reality.”

“That seems like way too rigid a rule.”

“Do you really love it that much?” Seth asked her. She blinked at the unexpected question.

“Yes,” she replied without hesitation. “Sure, it’s crazy at times, but acting has been my passion since I was in middle school. I thought the theater was everything to me, but I’m finding film to be fascinating too. It’s stretching me creatively. I’m not power or fame hungry, and I think my feet are planted solid on the ground. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to take my career as far as I can.”

He didn’t reply for a moment.

“You should be careful what you wish for,” he said somberly. “This business can eat people alive or take you bit by bit until there’s nothing left. You’re young. You still have a lot to learn about it.”

“Do not throw my age in my face again, Seth Hightower,” she said, pointing at him accusingly. “You’re only ten years or so older.”

“That’s a hell of a lot of y

ears of experience.”

“I’m old enough. I was then too,” she grated out. Her words echoed in her brain in the tense silence that followed. She hadn’t meant to bring up what had happened two years ago. Seth’s calm know-it-all attitude had pricked her temper. Again.

“Fine. I didn’t intend to argue with you about it. You’re the one who asked why I’m offended by assholes like McClarin,” Seth said, staring out the passenger’s-side window.

“Is it that surprising that I’m annoyed? You’re labeling me as an emotional simpleton on the sole basis of my career and the number of years I’ve been alive.” How could he be so clueless as to not realize how insulting that was?


Tags: Bethany Kane, Beth Kery One Night of Passion Erotic