by C. C. Gibbs
“Really? You’re not kidding?” Tiny breathless queries.
“Nope. This is really forever for me, pussycat. No changes, no going back, no reorgs or modifications. I’m in this for the long haul.” He lifted a brow. “Your turn.”
She smiled. “I hope you know what you’re doing because you’re never getting rid of me. I want you for myself; no one else gets to touch the merchandise.”
“We understand each other then,” he said simply. Dipping his head, he kissed her gently, sealing the deal. “Now introduce me to your parents.” He released her, stepped back, and took her hand. “We’ll make this official. I want you to stay with me tonight…” He dipped his head. “If that’s okay with Isabelle.”
Nicole squeezed his hand. “It’ll have to be all right. I’m not letting you out of my sight. But seriously, she’s feeling fine. The doctor just doesn’t want her drinking yet.”
“Makes sense.” He picked up Nicole’s small purse from the chair and slipped it in his coat pocket. “I’ll follow you. Lead the way.”
Her parents were in the dining room, seated at a table with Dominic, Kate, and the birthday girl’s parents. A few other guests were at a small bar that overlooked a decoratively lit courtyard, but most of the parent contingent had left.
The dining room was largely empty, so the instant Nicole and Rafe entered the room, they were immediately the focus of all eyes.
“Christ, now I know what it feels like to walk to the guillotine,” Rafe teased.
Nicole gave him a little smile. “I wonder if Dominic said something?”
“I’d say it’s likely, from the stares.”
When they reached the table, Nicole smiled at her parents. “Mom and Dad, may I introduce Rafe Contini. Rafe, my mom and dad, Melanie and Matt. I met Rafe in Monte Carlo a few weeks ago and he was with the holiday group in Croatia too. He just flew into town.” She leaned into his arm. “It was a nice surprise.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Parrish,” Rafe said, with a well-mannered smile.
“You know Dominic,” Nicole said, with a little wave at her uncle.
“Yes.” Rafe nodded and received a cool nod in return.
“And this is Kate, Dominic’s wife,” Nicole went on quickly, recognizing Dominic’s moody frown.
“I’ve heard such good things about you.” Kate smiled warmly. She and Nicole were confidants; she knew about the engagement. “Dominic told me about your lovely Adriatic home,” she added, not wishing to embarrass Melanie, who was clearly surprised at her daughter’s new boyfriend.
Nicole introduced Maddy’s parents next, then an awkward silence fell.
Never at a loss in social situations, Rafe was about to make an innocuous remark about San Francisco when Nicole squeezed his fingers hard and took a quick breath. “I have some other good news.” She held up her left hand. “I’m engaged—or rather, Rafe and I are engaged.” She gazed up at him and smiled. “We’re very happy.”
“Ecstatic,” Rafe said softly, smiling down at her, not caring about the silence, the astonished looks, Dominic’s frown. “I bought Nicole a house in Cliffside,” he added, looking up. Taking note of Nicole’s father staring at him as if he might raise some objection, he said simply, “We hope to marry soon.” He glanced at Nicole. “We do, don’t we?” Putting his arm around her shoulder, he pulled her close.
She looked up, startled and pleased. “I’d like that.” She would have been more effusive if a small crowd wasn’t watching their every move. “If you want to.”
He nodded, and for a moment they were alone in the room. “I do, very much.”
“Well,” Melanie said softly. “What a surprise.”
“Where in Cliffside?” Matt asked gruffly.
Rafe turned to Nicole’s father. “I forget the exact address. The Realtor called it the Merchant house.”
“Nice place.” Matt turned to his wife. “It’s close by, Mel,” he said, taking his wife’s hand and smiling at her.
Nicole softly exhaled, understanding her father had given his approval.
Recognizing he’d passed at least Nicole’s father’s inspection, Rafe said, “I was hoping Nicole could find time to furnish it. It’s standing empty.”
“My goodness,” Melanie said. “I saw the Merchants pull into their driveway just a few days ago.”
“Chris Fellows, the Realtor who handled the sale, didn’t mention any of the moving arrangements,” Rafe said smoothly.
“Are you in the city long?” Dominic asked, his gaze unreadable. Leo had heard the rumors about Jin.
“I’m hoping to stay for a week or so. Nicole and I have to coordinate our schedules.” Rafe looked at her. “School starts soon, right?”
“I could go to school in Geneva.”
A smile lit up his face. He hadn’t wanted to ask. “I’d like that.”
Nicole turned back to her parents, who, each at their own pace, were digesting their daughter’s unexpected news. “We’re going to go now. I’m staying at our house tonight,” she said with a quick grin for Rafe, taking the world in stride with her usual unequivocal confidence. “I’ll stop and see Isabelle on our way out.”
“I think we’ll leave now too,” Dominic said, wanting to talk to Rafe about Jin before he left. “If that’s okay with you, Katherine,” he added, smiling at his wife.
“I’m ready.” Coming to her feet alongside her husband, she gave a little wave to their hosts and Nicole’s parents. “Thank you, it was a lovely party. But the children get up early.”
Dominic and Kate were a dozen yards behind Rafe and Nicole when they exited the dining room.
“I have a few questions for Rafe,” Dominic said.
“I must be a mind reader.” Kate’s tone was light. “I could tell. Also Leo’s here tonight. Something’s in the air.”
“Nothing for you to worry about.”
Kate smiled. “What makes you think I’m worried?”
Dominic shot her a narrowed-eyed look. “Cute. There’s Contini.” Rafe and Nicole were within a few feet of the banquette where Isabelle sat. “Come on, this’ll just take a minute. You can visit with Isabelle.”
“Thank you, sweetie, but I’m not one of your employees. I don’t need instructions.”
“Sorry.” Dominic grinned. “I always forget you’re the boss.”
Kate laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll remind you.”
Dominic and Kate were making their way through the crowd when a waiter carrying a tray suddenly dropped it, drinks spilled, glasses fell to the floor, and partygoers jumped out of the way. As a space opened up around the man, he flung away the towel on his arm, swung up the Chinese Type 54 semiautomatic pistol in his hand, and aimed it at Rafe.
Rafe heard the low mumbled curse in Mandarin as if a moment of silence had materialized in the vibrating waves of music and in a single uninterrupted flow of motion, he shoved Nicole aside, spun around, slid his hand under his coat, grabbed his Beretta from his waistband in back, ripped off the safety, and fired.
Three shots exploded, the sharp retorts blasting through the music.
The waiter slowly crumbled to the floor, a star-shaped hole in the back of his head, his right eye blown out, brains and bone fragments misting the shrieking guests in bloody carnage.
The third round had smashed into the wall, the thirty-eight super cartridge punching a hole in the concrete.
Leaping into the expanding gap around the fallen man, Rafe stood astride the bloodied form, weapon drawn, until the body stopped twitching.
The band had fallen silent, people were pouring out into the night, the party literally exploding with gunfire.
A few feet distant from the corpse, Dominic was staring at Kate as she slid her handgun back in her purse. “What the fuck?” he growled.
“Gramps said only if you have to,” Kate said calmly, snapping the closure shut. “This was one of those times.”
“I meant where the hell did you get that Beretta?”
“Max.”
His scowl deepened. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not. Could we talk about this later? Someone should call the police.”
Leo, Simon, Davey, and Carlos’s security team were already moving people aside, cordoning off the area around the dead man. Pocketing his Beretta, Rafe returned to Nicole and, pulling her into his arms, bent his head so their eyes were level. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he murmured. “You okay?”
She nodded.
“Want me to call a doctor? I didn’t bring Alexei with me. Give me a name and I’ll get someone here.”
“No doctor,” Nicole whispered.
Concerned about her dazed look, he asked, “Want your mom?”
She shook her head.
“Can I carry you out of here? I’d really like to,” he added, not sure she heard him.
Instead, she said slowly, as if unlocking some mystery, “Is this part of what you were doing on the island?”
“The very last part. It’s over now. Word of God,” he said, because she was trying not to shake. “Come on, let’s go.” He waited until she nodded, then picked her up in his arms, met Simon’s gaze, and beckoned him over with a lift of his chin. “Have Davey escort Isabelle to her parents. She’s the blonde in the red dress over there. The Parrishes were in the dining room. If they need to be driven home, have Davey do it. We have enough cars, right?”
“Plenty. I’ll let him know. You stay in here until I bring the car up.” Simon held Rafe’s gaze, his meaning clear: Don’t come out, I’ll come in to get you.
“Will do,” Rafe said, then glanced at Nicole. “You gonna make it?”
She made a pathetic attempt at a smile. “As soon as we get out of here I’ll be fine.”
“Simon will have the car waiting in just a few minutes,” he promised. “Can you hang on a little longer? I’d like to thank Kate before we go.”
Nicole dragged in a breath and rallied enough to quip feebly, “Just don’t ask me to be witty.”
He brushed her nose with a kiss. “Thanks, you’re a trooper. I’ll make this quick.” Rafe carried Nicole to where Kate and Dominic were standing just beyond the cordoned-off area. Dominic was on his phone. Rafe spoke quietly to Kate. “I just wanted to say thanks. Appreciate it.” He would have said more if Nicole wasn’t there. But he didn’t want to upset her.
Kate could read between the lines. “Glad I could help,” she replied in the same mild tone. Everyone hadn’t had a grandfather who’d been a legendary sniper like she had. Firearms could be traumatic to those unfamiliar with them.
Dominic finished his call. “Leo will take care of things here with law enforcement,” he said, sliding his phone into his jacket pocket. Targeting Rafe with a glance, he said, “Nicole looks a little pale. Why don’t I tell her mother you took her home?”
“Thanks, that’d be great. Nicole will give her mother a call later.” Rafe dipped his head, held her gaze. “Right? In the morning?”
“Right the fuck after you explain all this to me,” she said tartly.
Rafe grinned. “There’s my girl. Back in the game.” Although when it came to an explanation, she’d be getting the sanitized version.
Nicole turned to Kate. “You’re going to have to take me to your target range. Apparently I have to learn some new skills.”
“No!” Rafe and Dominic said in unison.
Nicole sniffed. “They like to give orders, don’t they?”
Kate winked. “Best to ignore them.”
But later, once Kate was sleeping, Dominic called Max.
“I should fire you,” he growled.
“You saw Kate’s Beretta.”
“I also saw her blow off the back of a guy’s head.”
“She’s good, isn’t she,” Max said, unfazed. “She’s better than any of us.”
“I still should fire you for not telling me,” Dominic muttered.
“You might have to run that by your wife first,” Max drawled.
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Hey, relax. Kate knows what she’s doing. She’s not going to shoot her foot off.”
Dominic dragged in air through his teeth. “When would you have told me?”
“Come on, Nick, don’t put me in the middle. She wanted a weapon. She knew that you were always caught up in some shit. You can’t blame her. And look,” Max said with a chuckle, “if you ever need a freelancer in a pinch, you’re sleeping with one.”
“Fuck you. I’m taking that Beretta away from Katherine in the morning.”
Max was still laughing when Dominic hung up the phone.
Chapter 33
Simon parked the car in front of the sprawling Mediterranean-influenced, California-style house, then came around and opened Rafe’s door. “Everyone’s back but Davey. We’ll keep an eye on things tonight.”
“Sorry about the sleeping conditions,” Rafe said, stepping out with Nicole in his arms. “We’ll get everything in shape tomorrow.” The security crew was sleeping in the pool house.
“Hey, we’ve all seen worse. Not a problem. Unlike the bush, we have takeout here.”
“I left a couple things in the car,” Rafe said cryptically, moving toward the front entrance. He’d set his Glock and extra mag on the floor.
Simon nodded. “Got it.”
“I’ll talk to you in the morning. Late, probably.”
“Anytime. We’re not going anywhere.” Simon reached the entrance first, punched in the code, and pushed the door open. “Sleep well, guys.”
“Thanks, you too.” Then Rafe stepped into the large foyer and kicked the door shut. “I’ll carry you over the threshold officially later when we don’t have an audience,” Rafe murmured. “Or if you want I’ll go back out and, no?” Nicole was shaking her head. “So what can I offer you? Want something to eat, want the grand tour, a glass of champagne, or—”
“I’ll take the or,” she interrupted with a tiny smile.
“There you go,” he murmured, walking toward the broad carpeted staircase. “We’ve always agreed on that.”
“Nice, hey?”
“Nothing nicer.” He suddenly stopped and gazed down at her, his brow furrowed, as if he’d forgotten something. Then his smile suddenly blazed, beautiful and clean. “I’ve never been so happy, never even knew I could be this happy. You and me in our own house. I get to come home to you every night, walk in the door and—hey, don’t cry, come on, life’s good, everything’s gonna be perfect.”
“I know,” Nicole whispered, her eyes suddenly bright with unshed tears. “But do you ever worry that it’s all going to slip away? That something might happen to steal our happiness?” Like tonight, she thought. The man posing as a waiter had come to kill Rafe. “Like the man tonight,” she said, the words suddenly spilling out.
“No, never,” he answered, rapid fire and sure. “I told you, that’s all over. We, us, the soon-to-be-married, deep-in-love us are safe, secure, and forever. And,” he added with a flashing grin, intent on diverting her fear, “you might want to think about taking cooking lessons because my coming-home-every-night scenario has my wife serving dinner to me.”
Nicole giggled. “With my hair done and makeup on.”
“Apparently we saw the same old TV shows,” he murmured, pleased to see her playful again. “Although in a modern version, I could bring home takeout and we could eat in bed—”his leer was pure farce—“afterward.”
“Goddamn, I’ll marry you right now.”
“Sex and food, I’ll say, when they ask how I got you to the altar.”
“In that order please,” she said sweetly.
“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled. “Let me show you our bedroom.” He took the stairs two at a time, then walked down a long corridor and entered an enormous room with a window wall facing the bay. “Voilà, pussycat. That’s what we see from our bed.”
Lights sparkled on the opposite shore, ships with their running lights on were moving out to sea, and the Golden Gate Bridge blazed and spark
led far to the right.
“Feel like home?” There was a tenderness in his voice. “I thought you’d like something in your neighborhood.”
“It couldn’t be more perfect. You’re going to make me cry again. You’re so good to me.”
“Uh-uh, other way around. I never knew what goodness was until you came into my life.” He took a small breath, because he never cried and damned if he was going to now. “We just lucked out, you and me,” he said in a different tone of voice, light, teasing. “I think it was your killer body in that blue flowered bikini that day on the yacht. Blew my mind.”
“You have to hold me.” Her voice was thick, a flicker of distress in her gaze.
“I am,” he said, his voice soothing.
She shook her head. “That’s not what I mean.” She was restless, agitated, needing reassurance that the events of the evening were outliers. “I need you in my arms, me in yours, the warmth of your body close to mine.”
“Ah…let me see what you think about the bed, then,” he said, knowing she was asking him for oblivion from the horror she’d witnessed. Moving quickly from the doorway, he strode across the room. “If you don’t like it, we’ll move the bed to another room.” He spoke mildly, as if they were actually having a conversation. “The Realtor and some personal shopper picked it out, or he might have said his wife took a hand.”
“I don’t care what the bed looks like. I just want you to distract me in all my favorite ways or your favorite ways—I’m not fussy just so long as it’s five minutes ago.”
He smiled. “You’re feeling a little better?”
“Not quite good enough yet.” She was tempted to talk about why she was shaky but it was pointless; he’d be evasive about the killing. “I’m guessing you can remedy that,” she added, going with plan B in lieu of full disclosure.
He laughed. “Sounds like I’m on the clock. Give me a second.” Placing her on the bed, he turned on the bedside lamp, shrugged out of his topcoat, looked around for someplace to toss it, and hung it on the spiral bedpost. “Seriously, we need some furniture. Put it on your list.”
“Our list. I have no idea what you like—in furniture,” she added at the delicate lift of his brows. “This is nice though.” Lying back against the pillows, Nicole stroked the blue flowered quilt.
