Sexy Silent Nights

by Cara Summers

  Carl Rockwell and Stan Rubin already stood near the conference table. The sight of them helped Cilla snap back into security agent mode. But she was very careful not to look at Jonah.

  Stan was a tall man with white hair and a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. His eyes were blue, his smile warm, and if he’d been portly instead of slim, Cilla decided that he would have reminded her of Santa Claus. Carl Rockwell looked as fit and dapper as he had when she’d met him in the bar at Pleasures.

  Cilla liked Glenda, too. The woman was nearly as tall as her husband. She wore her blond hair pulled back in a classic chignon and looked quietly elegant in a champagne-colored sweater and slacks.

  The Rubins looked to be in their late fifties, just about the same age as Carl. All three expressed genuine concern about the attempted mugging. Carl had evidently given them a blow-by-blow description already. Glenda took Jonah’s hand in both of hers. “How troubling. This should be a season filled with joy.”

  “You’re smart to hire protection,” Stan said.

  “And G.W. Securities is where you started out, isn’t it?” Carl asked. “I admire loyalty.”

  Jonah glanced at Cilla. “And I like hiring the best.”

  Stan smiled. “Always the smart move. Dean will be joining us in a minute, but before he does, Glenda and I have been thinking of investing in this winery in Napa, and I’d like your opinion about this Cabernet I picked up. You, too, Carl.”

  As the men moved toward the conference table, Glenda took her arm. “I asked room service to send up some canapés. Would you mind helping me with them?”

  Cilla followed Glenda to a small kitchenette and watched her remove a bottle of white wine from the refrigerator. She could use a little break from being elbow to elbow with Jonah.

  At the other end of the large suite, still in plain sight, she could see Stan Rubin uncork a bottle of red wine and fill three glasses. But she couldn’t hear what the men were saying. The young man who joined them wore dark-framed glasses. He had a slender build with straight dark hair that fell over his forehead. He carried a laptop computer.

  Dean Norris, she surmised. He had a military bearing and precise movements, which matched the brief résumé Jonah had given her. He had to have joined the army at a young age because she judged him to still be in his mid-twenties.

  “I’m sorry about sweeping you away like this,” Glenda said. “It’s so women-in-the-kitchen, men-doing-the-important-business.” She wrinkled her nose. “But because I love Stan and know him, I’ve schooled myself to think of it in other terms. Stan spent a few years in the Air Force. You should have seen him in uniform. I tell myself that he wants me to play the role of wing-man. Are you familiar with the term?”

  “Sure. As a bodyguard, that’s my role with Jonah.”

  “And he’s right there where you can see him,” Glenda pointed out as she uncorked the bottle.

  “But Stan wants a private meeting with Dean, Carl and Jonah,” Cilla said.

  “Exactly.” Glenda poured wine into two glasses. “Stan favors the reds, but I love the whites. I know they’re not as fashionable. But this one is really good. Would you like a taste? I know you’re on duty.”

  “I can probably handle a taste.”

  Glenda beamed a smile at her. “I knew I liked you. Sometimes it happens that way. You just feel it.” She glanced over at the men as she handed Cilla a glass. “The meeting is about Dean. Stan believes he has a lot of promise and he wants to encourage him.”

  Cilla said nothing as Glenda pulled out some trays from the small refrigerator. “Dean has some design ideas that would change the theme of the club we’re opening in San Diego. Stan doesn’t agree with them, but he wants Dean to run them by Jonah and Carl so that he’ll feel his ideas are being given serious consideration.”

  “And Stan gets some backup for rejecting them.”

  “Exactly.”

  “What kind of theme change does Dean want to make?”

  “Have you been to any of Jonah’s clubs?” Glenda asked.

  “I’ve been to Pleasures and I just spent over two hours at Interludes. Pleasures takes you back in time to a gilded age. I’m not sure I got the full theme of Interludes because there were about two hundred kids romping through the rooms.”

  Glenda laughed. “You were at the Christmas party he throws every year for various youth organizations. Stan and I visited the Easter Party he gave for them last spring before we decided to propose this new club.”

  “Did you watch him shoot pool with the kids?”

  “Yes. The way the kids looked at him—that was the clincher for me. I knew we should do business with him. Stan bought in when Jonah showed them how to clear the table. His work with young people is what inspired Stan to take on Dean Norris as a special assistant on this project. Dean was the one who suggested Stan look into the idea of opening a club in the first place. He even suggested he contact Jonah. He’s such a hard worker and he wants so badly to impress Jonah.”

  Cilla glanced across the length of the suite and saw that Dean had set up his laptop on the conference table. A screen had been lowered on the wall, and the young man was hooking his computer up to a projector.

  “How did you meet Dean?”

  “About a year ago, he showed up at Stan’s office one day and asked for work. He said he wanted to learn the business from the bottom up. He’d take any job. It was exactly the right approach to take with Stan. He’s a self-made man. He wasn’t born with blue blood or a silver spoon in his mouth, and he made it to where he is on his own. Jonah, too. That’s one of the things Stan likes about Jonah.”

  “And Stan saw that same possibility in Dean.”

  “Yes.”

  For the first time, Cilla saw the hint of a frown in Glenda’s eyes. “You’re worried about this meeting.”

  “Dean doesn’t always take criticism or rejection easily, and since he feels it was his idea, this club in San Diego is very special to him. He’s very enthused about his designs. You’ll be able to see them on the screen.”

  Cilla watched the sketches flash onto the large panel. The drawings reminded her a bit of what she’d seen at Pleasures, the feeling of an elegant world in the past.

  “What do you think?” Glenda asked as she took a sip of her own wine.

  “They remind me of Pleasures.”

  Glenda let out a soft sigh. “That’s what Stan thinks, too. Jonah’s designs for this club are much more modern, more edgy. They’re calling it Inclinations, and the idea will be to attract young people.”

  When the screen went dark, Stan hit a wall switch to enhance the light and handed Dean a glass of wine. Glenda picked up her tray and moved across the room. With her own glass in hand, Cilla followed.

  “Your designs are impressive, Dean,” Jonah was saying. “Hold on to them. They might work very well in a club I’m thinking of opening farther up the coast in Seattle.”

  “I’d appreciate that, sir.”

  “Jonah.”

  Dean nodded. “After my years in the service, it’s hard to break the habit.” He turned to Carl. “What did you think, sir?”

  Carl smiled at him. “I have to agree with Jonah. Your designs show real promise, but I think we have to go with Jonah’s concept for the San Diego club.”

  Stan placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “It’s got to be a disappointment, but I have to agree with Jonah and Carl. Sticking with our original concept is the way to go.”

  “It’s your call, sir. I appreciate your giving me the chance to show you my ideas.”

  “Time for refreshments.” Glenda moved around the conference table and offered the canapés. Stan topped off Carl’s and Jonah’s glasses and turned the conversation to the wine.

  When the doorbell of the suite rang, Glenda set the food down and frowned. “That can’t be my sister Barbara. I told her six.”

  Stan glanced at his watch and sighed. “Barbara is always early. And if she and Hank have been in San Francisco shopping with
that clan of theirs, I’m figuring they both are in need of a large glass of this red.”

  Cilla felt her cell vibrate. Moving closer to the balcony doors, she saw that it was a text from Mark Gibbons. “Thirteen people in front of the suite. Eight adults, three young boys, two teenagers.”

  As she thumbed in an acknowledgment, the sound of voices and laughter floated in from the foyer. Above it, she heard Stan say, “I know you have plans, Carl, but, Jonah, you and Cilla are welcome to stay for dinner if you want. Barbara and Hank’s three grandchildren are what I kindly refer to as a ‘handful.’ That’s why we ordered room service instead of taking them out to a restaurant.”

  “Thanks,” Jonah said. “But I’ll want to check in at Pleasures.”

  “Figured. Big night tomorrow. Glenda and I are looking forward to it. We’ll see you there, Carl?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  A burst of laughter shifted Cilla’s attention to the foyer area, where Glenda was receiving hugs from three small boys.

  “We haven’t been formally introduced.”

  Cilla turned to see that Dean Norris had joined her at the balcony windows. He had a smile on his face, the first one she’d seen since he’d entered the suite earlier. And there was none of the stiffness she’d heard in his tone when he’d been fielding the bad news from Jonah and the others.

  “I’m Dean Norris and I work for Stan.”

  She took his outstretched hand. “Cilla Michaels. I work for Jonah.”

  “He’s a very lucky man. I envy him. Stan mentioned that someone tried to mug him outside his club last night. That’s got to be hard, especially during the Christmas season. But the upside is that he gets to have a beautiful bodyguard.”

  Cilla was saved from having to make a reply when three little boys, the ones who’d been hugging Glenda, exploded into the room and shot straight toward the balcony doors.

  “Watch out.” Dean took her arm and drew her away from the stampede just in time to avoid a collision.

  “Look, the sun’s a ginormous red ball and it’s setting,” one of them shouted.

  “It’s going to hit the Golden Gate Bridge on the way down and ’splode!” the second boy said.

  “Nah,” the third one argued. “It’ll just sink into the water.”

  “You’re wrong, too,” the first one insisted. “The sun isn’t sinking. The earth is rotating. Simple third-grade science.”

  Cilla heard Stan mutter to Jonah. “A handful. The one with the stellar science knowledge is my namesake, Stan.”

  Carl set his glass down and patted the older Stan on the shoulder. “Enjoy them. I’ll see you both tomorrow at Pleasures. Take care, Jonah.”

  “Enjoy them,” Dean spoke in an impatient undertone to Cilla. “Someone ought to control them. I only wish I had Stone’s or Rockwell’s excuse for leaving.”

  As other guests filtered in, Cilla kept her gaze on Dean. Seconds ago, he’d been affable, almost charming. Now tension radiated from every pore in his body. “Can’t you just say that you want to work on your designs and sneak off to your room?”

  Anger flashed into his eyes. “I’ll have to say that I’m working on some new ones since the ones I brought today were a total failure. Stone’s a tough man to compete with, especially since he’s got the money to make sure his designs win.”

  “But Glenda says that you were the one who urged Stan to open a club. If it’s successful, he’s going to give you the credit for that.”

  “And if it fails, I’m sure I’ll get the credit for that also. Stone will still come out on top. That’s what he’s always done. It’s…frustrating.”

  The words had come out in a rush and it wasn’t just anger she heard now, but passion. “You believe that your designs are truly better than Jonah’s?”

  “I know they are. I just need a chance to prove it.”

  “Then take Jonah up on his offer. Talk to him about the club he’s thinking of opening in Seattle.”

  Dean’s eyes narrowed. “He just said that to make me feel better.”

  She reached out and laid a hand on his arm. “No. He’s not a man who lies to people he does business with.”

  Whatever Dean might have responded was prevented by Glenda’s approach. She had her arm linked with a woman who might have been her twin.

  “Cilla, I want to introduce you to my sister Barbara and her husband, Hank.”

  She’d barely acknowledged the introductions before her cell rang. “Pardon me,” she murmured to Glenda, then stepped away to take the call.

  “Santos,” the voice said. “I just spotted our guy Tank in the hotel.”

  “You’re sure?” Cilla asked.

  “Not at first. He was wearing a baseball cap, and I might have missed him if he hadn’t raised his voice to the bell captain. I circled around to get a better look at him, and the instant he spotted me, he took off. By the time I got out to the street, he’d vanished. And there’s more.”

  Cilla felt the back of her neck begin to itch again. “What?”

  “I’m talking to the bell captain right now. He says the guy tipped him to deliver a gift bag to Room 820.”

  “That’s Stanley Rubin’s suite.”

  “Bingo. I tipped the captain again and told him I’d deliver the bag. It contains a little green box tied with a red ribbon.”

  “Stay there, but let Gibbons know what’s going on. I’ll come to get the bag. Call me if you spot Tank again.” Then she turned to signal Jonah.

  THE INSTANT CILLA FILLED him in on the delivery of a new gift bag, Jonah took her arm and steered her toward the door of the suite. As he nodded and smiled to Stan and Glenda’s relatives, questions swirled in his mind, each one increasing his sense of urgency. Why had another green box been delivered? The bastard had already sent him one today. Did that mean he was moving up the timetable? And how had the man known Stan’s room number? Hotels were pretty careful not to give out that information.

  Anger sparked to life inside him, and he leashed it down hard. It wouldn’t do him any good. Hadn’t he learned that lesson years ago from Father Mike? He could almost hear the priest’s voice in his ear telling him that anger never solved anything. You had to push it aside or it could blind you to everything life held in store.

  But he wanted Cilla out of the hotel and back at Pleasures. She would be safe there. And he wanted to spend time with her. Not just to make love with her—although he wanted that, too. But they needed to talk. Maybe together, they could make some sense of what was happening and put an end to it.

  Finally, only Glenda and a room service cart stood between them and the door of the suite. She pushed the cart out of the way and gave Cilla a hug. “I’m so glad to have met you.” Then she took Jonah’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thanks so much for letting Dean down easy. Stan and I won’t forget it.”

  Jonah smiled at her. “Tell him I meant what I told him. I think his idea might work for a place I’m thinking about in Seattle.”

  Glenda leaned in and kissed his cheek. “You’re a charming man, Jonah Stone. We’ll see you both tomorrow night.”

  She opened the door, then said, “Wait.” Turning, she took a gift bag from a small table and handed it to Jonah. “I left this here so I wouldn’t forget it. But I nearly did.”

  “A gift?” Jonah asked. “You shouldn’t have.”

  “I didn’t. The man who delivered the room service cart gave it to me. He said that someone handed it to him while he was loading carts into the elevator and asked him to deliver it. A surprise for Mr. Stone. I left it here because I didn’t want it to get lost in the circus going on in the other room.”

  Even before he glanced into the bag, Jonah knew what he’d see, and there it was. Another little green box with a red ribbon. The third one of the day. Anger boiled up. He wanted to throw it against the wall, and he might have given in to the temptation, the momentary pleasure, if Cilla hadn’t clamped a firm hand on his arm.

  11

  AS CILLA PULLE
D HIM INTO the corridor, Jonah still struggled to get a grip on his temper. It had been years since he’d totally lost it, not since that long-ago night when he’d been with Father Mike praying to the statue of St. Francis in the little prayer garden near the center and screaming curses at his father.

  Cilla beamed a smile at Glenda and said, “We’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  Her hand remained an iron clamp on his arm as she pulled him down the hall. A few doors down a family of three stepped out of their room and headed toward the elevators where several people, including Mark Gibbons, already stood waiting.

  “Wonderful party,” she said in the same tone that she’d used with Glenda. Bright, cheerful, as if neither of them had a care in the world.

  Then she eased the gift bag out of his hand and slipped it over her arm. “It was so kind of them to give us a present.”

  Jonah looked at her then. She’d taken out her cell phone and was thumbing in a text message. Was it possible that she hadn’t seen the green box inside the gift bag?

  That thought shot straight out of his mind when she met his eyes. Hers were flat and coplike. She’d seen it all right.

  She glanced down at her phone. He followed the direction of her gaze and read the text she’d written.

  Play along with me. I feel like someone is watching us. I had the same feeling when we first arrived. I want you out of here before we open the boxes.

  “But I’m so glad we’re going home,” she said in a voice that wasn’t flat at all. It held promises.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two of the people waiting for the elevators glance their way.

  Ignoring them, Cilla rose to her toes, clasped her hands on each side of his face and drew his mouth down to hers. She brushed her lips over his. “I have plans for when we get home.”

  While her breath feathered along his cheek and her scent twisted into him, Jonah decided there were ways to channel anger other than throwing things. “Let’s give them something to watch.” He jerked her closer and covered her mouth with his.