“This isn’t my idea of the perfect evening,” Natalie replied, desperately trying to pull herself together. “I’m scared, Maddy. I’d like to wake up and discover this was all a bad dream.”
“At least you’re talking now.”
“That’s ’cause of you,” Natalie said, attempting a weak smile. “He’s right—girl, you got more balls than any of ’em.”
“My father told me that once,” Madison said, laughing wryly. “I think he was hinting I took after him.”
“You probably do. Anyway, you make me feel safe.”
“That’s the main thing,” Madison said, sounding braver than she felt as she checked out the other female hostages clustered together on the floor, most of them shell-shocked like Natalie.
“Stay cool, everyone,” she warned in a low voice. “If nobody makes any rash moves, we’ll get out of this alive.”
“Who elected you president?” snapped a short redhead in a tight blue dress. “That lowlife took my seventy-five-thousand-dollar Harry Winston engagement ring, and I want it back.”
“What’s more important—your life, or a stupid piece of jewelry?” Madison asked sharply.
“Jump off your white horse and get real,” the redhead said in a strident voice. “The cops’ll bust these guys, so you should stay out of it.”
“I should, huh?” Madison said, temper rising.
“Yeah,” the girl said. “Sorry to be the one to tell you, but this isn’t a story opportunity.”
Before Madison could reply, the phone rang again. The gunman zigzagged over and snatched it up. “You wanna talk,” he said loudly, “then listen good. Get me a black van with a full tank. Park it in the alley with no cops around—no fuckin’ sharpshooters. We’ll be gettin’ in the van with hostages. When I’m sure there’s no one followin’, an’ no helicopters trackin’ us, we’ll release ’em. You don’t—an’ I’ll be wastin’ one hostage every fifteen minutes. I’m givin’ you twenty minutes, then I start shootin’.”
“Twenty minutes doesn’t give them enough time,” Madison said, her throat dry. “You’ve got to make it an hour.”
Christ! Was she now in cahoots with the gunman? This was insane.
“Fuck you!” he said, and walked away.
The truth was that his words chilled her. He’d probably already killed once. What difference did it make if he shot them all?
By the time Nando turned up, the atmosphere at the table was strained. Jenna was sulking. Vincent was pissed. And Jolie wanted to know exactly where he’d been.
“Hey,” Nando said, waving his arms expansively in the air as he faced up to his wife. “You know I don’t like bein’ questioned. I told you I had a business meeting and that’s what it was, strictly business.”
Nando was a wiry-looking man a few months younger than Vincent. Not conventionally handsome, he had his own particular style that appealed to both men and women. Ballsy and full of testosterone, he was Vincent’s partner and best friend. They’d grown up together and had much in common. Women loved Nando, a fact that was not lost on his beautiful wife.
Jolie narrowed her amber eyes. She didn’t trust her husband. On the other hand, whatever he did, she could do too. And she was quite prepared to do it with Vincent, if only he was ready to play.
Which he wasn’t.
Too bad.
“How’s my favorite beauty?” Nando asked, swooping down to kiss Jenna.
“About time you showed up,” Vincent said, wondering—like Jolie—if Nando was playing on the side.
“Where’s Andy?” Nando asked, checking out the table.
“He had to go.”
“Vincent frightened him off,” Jolie said.
“Shit!” Nando said, sliding into the booth beside her. “I got people wanna invest in a movie for him.”
“I’m sure he really needs your investors,” Jolie murmured dryly.
“Do me a favor,” Vincent said, frowning. “Don’t invite your assholes to dinner, then do a no-show. The prick was all over Jenna. He’s lucky he walked out of here.”
“Jesus, Vin,” Nando said, clicking his fingers for the waiter and ordering another bottle of champagne. “You think everyone’s got the hots for your wife. She’s hot, but trust me—Andy Dale has women fallin’ over themselves to get near him, he doesn’t need to hit on Jenna.”
“Keep him away from me and Jenna,” Vincent warned.
“Yeah, yeah,” Nando said, taking no notice.
“Nobody needs to keep anyone away from me,” Jenna said, speaking up, her voice a girlish squeak. “Andy wasn’t doing anything. I’m, like, so humiliated that Vincent imagined he was.”
“Hey,” Nando said, with a rakish grin. “Marry an irresistible woman an’ you’re gonna have guys hittin’ on her. It comes with the territory. I should know,” he added, placing his arm around Jolie’s smooth bare shoulders. “Look at the beauty I got.”
A guilt hug, Jolie thought. He’s screwing someone else, the bastard.
“So,” Nando continued, “we all gonna sit here with long faces, or we gonna have ourselves a good time?”
“A good time, please,” Jenna said, cheering up. She liked Nando; he always put a smile on her face.
“That’s my girl,” Nando said, winking at her. “Now why don’t you an’ Jolie go powder your noses or whatever you girls do when you spend three hours in the head? Vin and I got somethin’ to discuss.”
“What would that be?” Jolie asked. Nando silenced her with a look. “Okay, okay, we’re going,” she said, hastily getting up. “C’mon, Jenna.”
“I just went,” Jenna complained.
“C’mon,” Jolie repeated. “The guys need private time. Maybe we’ll hit a few slot machines instead of the ladies’ room. Got any change?”
“You know I don’t like you to play,” Nando said, the smile slipping from his face.
“Big deal!” Jolie said. “Slot machines. I can really break the bank, can’t I?”
Nando threw her another look.
Jenna got up from the table. “I hope you’re planning to apologize to Andy Dale,” she said stiffly, directing her words to her husband. “I have no idea what you said to him, but whatever it was, he didn’t look happy when he came back. You embarrassed me.”
“I embarrassed you?” Vincent said incredulously.
“Yes,” Jenna said, slightly unsure of herself.
“Baby,” Vincent said, shaking his head, “if you think that was an embarrassment, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
“I don’t like it when you speak to me like that,” she complained.
“You’d better go, before I say something I might regret,” Vincent said, waving her away with a dismissive gesture.
Jenna’s blue eyes filled with tears. Sometimes she didn’t understand her husband one little bit. He wasn’t her boss, and it was about time he stopped treating her like an employee.
The two women left.
“What’s on your mind?” Vincent asked, turning to his partner.
Nando picked up his champagne glass and took a long swig. “Got a proposition.”
“Yeah?”
“We’ve always been partners an’ shit,” Nando continued, “so I didn’t wanna do something without givin’ you a chance to get in on the action.”
“What action?”
“I got a couple of acquaintances who own the Manray strip joint. You know the place I mean?”
“Yes, it’s a real sleazy dive.”
“Sure it is,” Nando agreed. “Half the girls are hookin’ on the side, an’ the rest are busy doin’ drugs. Only, we got an opportunity to buy it—make it a classy operation. Y’know, put in a hot restaurant, top-of-the-line girls. Vegas is changing, Vin. For the last ten years it’s been all about family. Now, fuck family—it’s back to the basics. Girls an’ gamblin’. Whaddaya think?”
“Who owns the place?”
“Leroy Fortuno and Darren Simmons.”
“Jesus, Nando,” Vincent s
aid in disgust. “Those guys are bad news. We run a clean operation. Why ruin our reputation?”
“I’m talkin’ plenty cash,” Nando said persuasively. “The Manray could be a moneymaking machine.”
“Hookers and drugs,” Vincent said, shaking his head. “Not my scene.”
“Like we don’t have hookers workin’ the hotel an’ casino now?” Nando questioned.
“Every place does. The difference is they’re on their own—we’re not taking a cut.”
“Hey, Vin,” Nando said restlessly. “I’m not plannin’ on blowin’ this deal. You don’t wanna come in, I’ll partner with them.”
“Does Jolie know about it?”
“You think I tell my wife about business? I’m not completely loco.” He laughed his crazy laugh. “Women got a purpose in life—an’ it sure as hell ain’t business.”
As Jolie and Jenna headed for the ladies’ room, they had to pass through the casino.
Jolie nudged Jenna. “Look who’s over there,” she said, purposely causing trouble.
“Who?”
“Your boyfriend, Andy Dale.”
“Don’t say that!” Jenna said, blushing. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Just effing with you,” Jolie answered with a secretive smile.
“Anyway,” Jenna asked, trying to sound casual, “where is he?”
“At one of the blackjack tables.”
“Oh goodness!” Jenna exclaimed excitedly, unable to help herself. “Perhaps I should go over and apologize.”
“For what?” Jolie asked, amazed at Jenna’s level of complete naivete.
“For whatever my husband said to frighten him off.”
“You were flirting,” Jolie pointed out.
“I was not,” Jenna objected.
“Looked like it to me.”
“I think I will go over,” Jenna decided. “I should tell him that Vincent didn’t mean it.”
“Whatever,” Jolie said casually. “Only remember—if Vincent finds out, you will be in deep trouble.”
“You wouldn’t tell him, would you?”
“Why would I?”
“Because you two are old friends,” Jenna said quickly. “You knew him before I did.”
“I won’t tell him, okay?” Jolie said impatiently. “Go over there if you must, only try not to make a fool of yourself.”
“Where will you be?”
“In the ladies’ room, having a smoke,” Jolie replied. “And don’t keep me waiting too long. It wouldn’t be wise for me to go back to the table without you.”
Jenna nodded, and face flushed with anticipation, she set off to apologize to Andy Dale.
“Don’t hurt me,” Dani gasped. “Please don’t hurt me, I’ll do whatever you say.”
Her heart was thundering in her chest as the intruder held her from behind. He was strong and tall, she could feel the power in his arms.
Without saying a word his hands dropped to her breasts.
Oh God! Was he going to rape her? Was this what it was about?
Why hadn’t she invited Dean up to her apartment? If he was with her this would never have happened.
The intruder flicked open the front clasp of her bra, releasing her large breasts.
The tips of his fingers began caressing her nipples.
To her horror, she felt herself becoming aroused.
His left hand stayed on her breasts while his other hand reached down and started pulling up her skirt.
“No!” she said sharply. “Please! No!”
“Why not?” he said. “You told me you’d do whatever I said.”
“Michael!” she exclaimed, recognizing his voice and spinning around to face him. “You bastard! How dare you scare me.”
“I wanted to see if you’d fight back,” he said, laughing.
“You’re not funny,” she said, reaching for the light switch. “I could’ve had a heart attack.”
“Who, you?” he said, still laughing. “You’re strong as a horse.”
“I can’t believe you did that to me,” she said, fastening her bra.
“And I can’t believe you were out on another date with Mr. Perfect. Doesn’t that jerk ever give up?”
“Just because you’ve hated Dean for years, there’s no need to be rude. If you wanted to run my life, you should’ve married me.”
“If I’d married you, we wouldn’t still be having sex, would we?”
“We’re not having sex.”
“Says who?” he said, coming after her.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, pushing him away. “I don’t hear from you in months, and all of a sudden you appear in the middle of the night to scare me.”
“I’m here. Isn’t that enough?”
“No. You treat me like crap, Michael, then you expect me to fall gratefully into your arms like you’re God’s gift.”
“It seems to work for us, doesn’t it?” he said, walking into the living room. “How many years is it now?”
“Long enough for me to know better,” she said, wishing he didn’t look so damn good.
“Want a drink?” he asked, strolling over to the bar.
“Help yourself,” she said sarcastically, taking another long look at him. Yes, he was still the most handsome man she’d ever set eyes on. His dark hair was only slightly flecked with gray, he was in excellent shape, and he’d always been a great dresser. Tall, dark, and handsome. Her weakness.
He fixed himself a hefty scotch on the rocks. “Sure I can’t make you something, baby?”
“I’m not your baby,” she said stiffly.
“You’ve always been my baby,” he answered. “You’re the only one who’s been there for me through everything.”
“Y’know, Michael, you use me,” she complained.
“What?” he said, frowning.
“The only time you come here is when you need something. The rest of the time I’m by myself.”
“That’s bull—”
“No!” she interrupted. “It’s fact. And another thing—the moment I start a relationship, back you come to ruin everything.”
“Don’t mean to.”
“Yes you do.”
“It’s a little late for regrets, isn’t it?”
“Not at all,” she said heatedly. “I’ve a lot of good years left.”
“Sure you do, sweetheart,” he said, soothing her anger. “You’re still an extremely beautiful woman.”
Determined not to fall for his flattery as she usually did, she thrust out her jaw. “I repeat—why are you here?”
“You want the truth, or how about I make something up?”
“The truth would be nice for a change.”
“Okay, you asked for it,” he said, gulping down his drink. “There’s a warrant out for my arrest.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Wish I was.”
“For what?”
“Here’s the deal,” he said slowly. “I’m being accused of shooting Stella and her boyfriend.”
She stared at him for a long time. She’d heard so many stories about Michael and his wife, Stella. Quite frankly, she didn’t know what to believe. “Did you?” she asked at last, her throat quite dry at the thought.
“What do you think?” he answered restlessly.
“I think you’re a man who’s capable of anything.”
“I didn’t do it, Dani, okay?” he said sharply. “You can take my word on it.”
“Have you seen a lawyer?”
“Lawyers,” he said, his voice filled with contempt. “Show me a lawyer an’ I’ll show you a guy who sits in a fancy office runnin’ up big bills while screwing his secretary and his clients.”
“You’re very cynical, Michael.”
“No shit.”
“So,” she said, sighing. “What you’re telling me is that there’s a warrant out for your arrest, and that you’re a fugitive. Right?”
He nodded.
“And since you’re here, in my ap
artment, doesn’t that make me an accessory?”
“I guess so,” he agreed, nodding again.
“And I’m supposed to protect you?”
“That’s about it.”
“Oh gee, thanks,” she said fiercely. “I don’t get you as a husband, but I do get you as a fugitive.”
“What’s with this marriage crap?” he said irritably. “You and me, sweetheart—we’ve had a longer relationship than any dumb marriage.”
Suddenly she’d had enough of him. Once again he was coming to her because he was in trouble, and it simply wasn’t fair. “Screw you, Michael,” she said, turning away so he couldn’t see how much he affected her.
“That’s exactly what I had in mind,” he said, moving in her direction.
“Of course you did,” she sighed, giving up.
And as he came toward her, she knew there was no way she could resist him.
Michael was an addiction—one she’d never been able to overcome.
Time stood still for Sofia as she flew through the air, waiting to see whether she hit water or concrete.
Holy shit! she thought. What a way to die. Escaping from two horny old Spaniards. This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be.
If I make it, she promised herself, I’m going home. Enough of this crap!
Then she hit water, and the relief was overwhelming.
She felt herself sinking, sinking, sinking . . .
Was she about to crack the bottom of the pool? Smash her skull? How far did she have to go before she started coming up?
Oh man! This was, like, so insane.
Then suddenly she was surfacing, gasping and spluttering for air, her lungs filled with water.
I made it, I made it, she thought triumphantly, splashing to the side of the pool and hauling herself out onto the cold concrete, where she collapsed.
Holy shit, I made it! I made it!
She lay on the ground for a moment, gathering her strength. Then she rolled over and glanced up.
Paco was leaning over the terrace, a look of amazement on his face.
“Screw you, asshole!” she yelled. “I’m calling the freaking cops. And if they won’t do anything, I’ll get my father, and he’ll beat the crap out of you. You bastards!”
She wondered if he understood her. Probably not. The jerk didn’t speak English.
Deadly Embrace Page 9
