by Maya Blake
Elana drew in a shaky breath, her emotions bubbling beneath her skin. “Thank you, Mom.”
Her mother nodded. “But everything is going to be different now. Whether you like it or not, it’s time to grow up, Elana.”
From the excited high of minutes ago, her spirits plummeted. She opened her mouth—to say what, she would never know. Because an instant later, a sob burst from her chest and fat, hormonal tears rolled down her face.
* * *
“A toast to the father-to-be!” Luc grabbed one of the many bottles of vintage Krug from the silver buckets dotted around their VIP lounge and poured the wine into crystal goblets. They were far enough from the next lounge and the other clubbers not be overheard.
More laughter and slaps on the back ensued as Thom basked in the adulation. He even noticed that Rafe wasn’t being distant anymore. Which was good. This was a time for celebration and family. He couldn’t wait to tell his parents. He’d have to do it soon, though, before they heard it through the overefficient media grapevine or a member of the family prematurely sending congrats. The Marshalls were an emotional bunch—as he’d just witnessed—so he wouldn’t put such a thing past any of them.
He was debating when best to call them when Joe and Luc approached. Luc pressed another glass of champagne in his hand. “Congratulations again, man. This is truly fantastic news.”
Joe nodded. “Harrison will be overjoyed when he wakes up.”
A pulse of silence dampened the mood as they were reminded of Harrison’s absence and the still unknown reasons behind it.
Then Rafe punched him on the arm and the moment passed. “You better pray for a boy though, Thom. I love my sister to death, but I wouldn’t wish another reincarnation of her in any child. One version of her is more than enough.” His mock shudder drew even more laughter, more toasts, more drinking.
“I think either sex is great,” Rachel chimed in. “In fact, I think news of more Marshall babies on the way is just what this family needs. What do you think, Luc? Shall we embark on our own project? You’ll make an awesome father, and Elana’s baby would be thrilled to have a playmate, don’t you think?”
Luc’s smile died, and a tic appeared in his jaw. “What I think is that we just got engaged, babe. We haven’t even managed to settle on a venue for the wedding yet. Why don’t we concentrate on one project at a time, hmm? Hey, Thom, more champagne?”
Thom dutifully extended his glass, carefully avoiding Rachel’s hurt gaze. He’d always thought the girl tried way too hard, but hell, it was none of his business.
Besides, they were supposed to be celebrating his news, not using it as a springboard for her own agenda. But as he sipped his champagne, he couldn’t avoid the new tension that had descended on the group. Nor could he shutter his own rising anxiety.
Elana had felt under the weather for days, even a couple of weeks. Surely she must have suspected she was pregnant? Why hadn’t she said anything to him? He hadn’t really minded hearing the news with the rest of the family, but a little heads-up, privately, would’ve been great. Surely that wasn’t too much to ask? Shit, a man needed a little adjustment period for such momentous news. Unless she’d meant to blindside him? To what end, though? Did she think he’d make a lousy dad? Or were her suspicions from something else? Did she think he wouldn’t want the baby? No, that was ridiculous.
He racked his brain, wondering if he’d dropped any signs she’d picked up on. When he came up empty, he retraced his steps again. If there was even a hint of suspicion, he needed to allay it ASAP.
“You’re rocking that shell-shocked look very well, brother, but let’s not give the guests something to sink their teeth into, shall we?” Luc grabbed him by the shoulder and attempted to put him into a headlock.
Laughing, he freed himself and straightened to see Mariella striding across the room. His mother-in-law looked a superb vision in a sleeveless sequined green cocktail dress and her exquisite diamonds. Unlike before, her hair was pinned up, and several eyes followed her as she smiled and waved to guests on her way to the VIP lounge. She was climbing the stairs before Thom noticed she was alone.
His wife’s absence so soon after the direction of his unsettling thoughts made his gut clench. He cautioned himself against overreacting. “Where’s Elana?” he asked the moment Mariella arrived in the lounge.
“She decided to stay at the hotel, rest up a little.”
Thom frowned and set down his glass as his anxiety ramped up another notch. “Does she need the doctor? I think I’m going to head back in case she needs me.”
Mariella laid a restraining hand on his arm, her smile reassuring but firm. “She’s fine, Thom. All you would be doing if you went back is watching her sleep. She asked me to tell you to stay and enjoy yourself. So, humor your mother-in-law and escort me to the dance floor, hmm?” She quirked one immaculately plucked eyebrow at him.
And short of offending her, Thom had no choice but to hold out his arm.
* * *
Rachel stood on the edge of the VIP lounge, sipping her champagne. The smile she kept pinned on her face was the opposite reflection of the emotions swirling through her. Once again Luc had rebuffed any attempt at moving their plans forward. Maybe it was time to take him out of the decision-making process altogether? All she needed to do was accidentally forget to take the pill. If she started right away, they would be pregnant by the time they got married. So what if they hadn’t agreed on a baby yet? She wasn’t looking forward to a screaming brat eating up her time either. Ditto to the idea of chugging up like Elana had done tonight. But she’d seen the way they’d all reacted to Elana’s pregnancy. Family was precious to the Marshalls. No one was truly prepared to be a parent, no matter how well they planned it. It’d just be a happy surprise. Besides, a pregnancy would focus his mind firmly on where it needed to be. On her. Until that happened, though, she needed to redouble her efforts to ensure his other distraction was out of the picture.
Chapter Five
Gabe walked down the corridor, glancing over his shoulder to make sure he was alone before he raised a hand to knock on the door. He didn’t think he’d been followed, but after what had happened tonight, he was being extra vigilant.
They’d narrowly avoided handing the media the scoop of the month. He wasn’t about to blow it by being careless. Although maybe he was being careful for nothing, he thought as the door remained shut.
He knocked again and pressed his ear to the door. He heard the sound of the chain being drawn back, then the door cracked open. Elana stared back at him, a wary look in her eyes.
“Hey, Gabe,” she murmured.
“Hey. I just wanted to check on you and say congratulations. Mariella told me the news—”
“Thank you. Yeah, I’m fine. I was just about to head to bed.”
He smiled. She was a sweet girl, despite her occasional cattiness. Had she not looked as if she was a hairbreadth from barfing on him, he would’ve gone inside and hugged her. He contented himself with a nod.
“Okay, I’ll leave you alone in a minute. I just came by to apologize for my...for Ana’s behavior earlier.”
She shook her head. “There’s no need for you to apologize, Gabe. She’s a grown-ass woman who doesn’t hold her liquor very well, unfortunately. You’re not responsible for her actions.”
He shrugged. “Still, I should’ve kept a better eye on her. I will from now on.”
She waved him away with a feeble hand. “You took care of the situation. You got her out of there before the worst happened. But...” She hesitated. “I hate to say it, but what if something else happens with her?”
He smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ve got everything under control. Nothing else will ruin this weekend.”
She returned his smile. “You’re amazing, you know that? I don’t know what we’d do without you around
.”
He laughed. “Probably have a little bit more excitement than you can handle. But seriously, don’t worry about anything else.”
“That’s great. Are...are you heading back to the nightclub?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I’m going to stick around, keep an eye on Ana.”
Elana tensed a little and frowned. “Really? I thought you said there was nothing to worry about.”
“There isn’t, but she’s going to wake up with one hell of a hangover. I’d rather she took it out on me than anyone—” He stopped as his phone got a text. It was his Fixer ringtone, and he had a suspicious feeling he knew who it was. He tapped his jacket pocket with an apologetic look. “I need to address this. Rest up. I’ll check back on you later.”
“Or we can catch up tomorrow? I’ll probably be asleep when you come back later,” Elana suggested instead.
“Fine. And don’t worry, we’ll have fun tomorrow. And I promise, whatever happens in Vegas will stay in Vegas,” he said with a wink.
Her pinched look eased considerably. “Okay, thanks, Gabe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He nodded. “Good night. And feel better.”
She shut the door. He turned and walked away, making sure he was well out of earshot of his cousin before he reached into his pocket and took out his phone.
* * *
Elana leaned back against the closed door, pressed her hand against her chest and willed her hammering heart to ease its runaway-train speed.
What the hell was she doing? Hadn’t she had enough excitement for one night without courting this situation, too? But as much as she wanted to deny it, echoes of the thrill of playing this dangerous game lingered. Prying herself from the wall, she walked to the middle of the room.
“He’s gone,” she murmured.
A moment later, a figure emerged from the bathroom. In the semidarkness she searched his face before her gaze traveled down his body. Shit, he was still a handsome devil, and she was just as enthralled by him now as she’d been the first time she’d seen him.
But she’d promised to be better. To give her marriage a chance. Especially now, with the added complication of a baby on the way. A baby her family knew about and were ecstatic over.
She bit her lip and forced out the words clogging her throat. “But you need to get the hell out of here.”
Jarrod walked slowly toward her, stepping into the pool of light thrown by the lamp on her nightstand. When he reached her, he traced the back of his hand down her cheek, firing up a decadent thrill through her body.
God, she was so pathetically weak when it came to him.
As if he could read her thoughts, he smiled that fallen angel’s smile that never failed to raise her temperature. “You don’t mean that.”
“Y-yes, I do. You can’t be here, Jarrod.” She hated the way her voice quivered, but at least she got the words out.
His eyes narrowed. “Why the hell not? No one knows I’m here. And what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Remember?”
* * *
Gabe shut the door to his suite, threw the lock and reached for his phone. He hoped to God it wasn’t Rachel. After the debacle outside the nightclub, he wasn’t sure he wanted his tolerance levels to be tested again tonight, especially by that psychopathic bitch. It was bad enough he’d spent more time than he could afford devising ways to teach her a lesson without revealing himself as the Fixer.
He activated his phone. It wasn’t her, but it was another client. He read the text, his mood darkening as he reread it one more time.
What the fuck?
He could count on the fingers of one hand how many clients had pulled their contracts with the Fixer since he started operating. He never took on whimsical clients, nor did he solidify an agreement and agree on payment until he was absolutely sure a client wanted to go ahead.
Suddenly, he had two cancellations in one day? And both from potentially lucrative contacts, too. This second cancellation was from a state senator.
His frown deepened. The first one had been a Washington lobbyist, citing swirling rumors about the Fixer’s trustworthiness and his inability to get the job done.
Dammit. He read the message again, then his mind began to comb through the mounting evidence. Both cancellations were from powerhouse politicians. It was obvious the person behind this threat had Washington connections. Shit, Rachel’s father was a congressman. He hadn’t done any jobs for her father, but it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that the source who’d recommended Rachel to him was connected to the congressman and his cohorts. Had he foolishly underestimated her?
He strode to the floor-to-ceiling window, his gaze tracking restlessly over the lights blazing on the Strip. He couldn’t afford to lose business. Not with things as precarious as they were. But calling the clients to try to talk them around would reek of weakness. The Fixer needed to maintain a position of power, always. Most of all, jobs came to him, he didn’t go chasing after them.
But word of mouth was clearly beginning to hurt him. He needed to do something. Now.
He was deliberating his next of course of action when the phone rang in his hand. He stared down at words unknown caller on the screen and gritted his teeth.
Coming so soon after this second cancellation, Gabe had no doubt who was calling. Rachel. And he was sure how the conversation was going to go.
Bleeding the anger from his voice, he activated his voice distortion app and answered. “Yes?”
“I know you’ve received the texts. Today you lost two jobs. Tomorrow you might lose two others, maybe more. By this time next week, you’ll be begging for scraps—that is, if you’re not rotting in jail somewhere.”
Anger mingled with bile and seared his throat. For a moment he wanted to reveal that he knew who she was, call her bluff on her activities. Tonight he’d watched her preen in the spotlight, her hunger for his family’s fame and fortune as glaring as the paparazzi’s flashbulbs. It was clear she would go any lengths to hang onto Luc. But did that include exposing her true character to her fiancé? Gabe didn’t think so.
But to expose her would mean risking a hell of a lot more than momentary satisfaction of getting her off his back. With the Marshall family’s position still precarious, he had no choice but to keep the peace. As much as it pained him to do so right now. “I wouldn’t bet on that just yet,” he growled coldly.
“Save it, Mr. Fixer. I have you by the short and curlies. But I’m a reasonable person. I can ensure you’re back in business by close of play tomorrow, as long as you do what you promised to do. She’s in Vegas right now, staying at the Grecian. Does that make things easier? I have her room number for you—”
“I promised I’d get rid of her. I didn’t promise to kill her.”
“I know what you’ve done for other clients in the past. Murder may not be part of your repertoire, but you’ve come close enough. What’s one more blurry line to you?”
“It’s far from blurry,” he snapped.
“Don’t test me,” she snapped right back. “I can and will end you if you don’t give me what I want. You know what needs to be done. Do it, and call me when it’s done.”
The line went dead. Gabe fought the urge to hurl the handset across the room. But he needed to keep a cool head.
Think.
The need to go back on his discarded plan and call Rachel’s bluff struck him hard again. Blackmail was supposed to be one of his best weapons. He admitted that it didn’t sit well to have the weapon turned on him. He could be rid of her within the hour, though. All he would need was an anonymous message to Luc to expose Rachel, get rid of her once and for all.
How the hell could he do that, though, without risking being exposed as the Fixer? Gabe’s jaw clenched hard. He couldn’t.
But the alternative...takin
g a life?
No, he’d stick to the original contract and run Vanessa out of town once they got back to Santa Barbara. All Rachel wanted was her rival out of her life. He’d have to be careful, though now he knew she was keeping tabs on Vanessa, too. Trust her to be the sort to be that manic about her competition’s whereabouts. She’d proven a little more resourceful than he’d given her credit for. Who knew how many more powerful men and women she had on her speed dial. For all he knew, her influence could spread all the way to the White House.
He jerked away from the window and the view he’d thought spectacular when he’d first seen it. Now he couldn’t stand the sight of it.
Striding to the extensive bar that came with the suite, he poured himself a stiff cognac, threw it back and immediately poured another. This one he drank a little more slowly. But no matter how he tossed his problem around in his head, he came up against a wall. Fuck, he was caught between a rock and a hard place. He couldn’t even walk away from the contract now without risking repercussions.
Dammit, Harrison, you picked a hell of a time to fall into a coma...
His conscience answered his uncharitable thought by pricking him with the obvious. Even if his mentor had been standing in front of him, he would’ve answered Gabe’s to-kill-or-not-to-kill dilemma with one unwavering answer: there was no excuse on earth for taking a life.
He knocked back the last of his drink, hoping the alcohol would numb the voice of the only father he’d known from his mind. He wasn’t ashamed to admit Harrison’s answer wasn’t one he welcomed right now.
He and Harrison had accomplished a lot since they set out on this unlikely path to success. They’d reaped fantastic rewards, accumulated a lot of power. Power he stood to lose if he didn’t give this one client what she wanted.
But murder?
He’d cleaned up suspicious deaths before, but never perpetrated one by his own hand. Could he blur that line he’d sworn never to cross and take a life? The alternative was to sit back and see his family destroyed. Surely he owed it to Harrison to make this right?
