“Ah, can I just do simple?”
Amanda stepped back, her face affronted. “I don’t mean to brag.” She held her hands to her side like Vanna White in a new dress. “But I am something special in stylist circles. I can’t just let you stroll out of here with a plain-old blow out. You need a touch of Amanda.”
A touch of Amanda.
Lucy let the ridiculous phrase land in her mind. She was safe from Bruno and Gino as long as she stayed with other people. She could figure out where Joey was while Amanda worked. “Okay, but don’t cut the length.”
Amanda began mixing color in little bowls, while an assistant tore precise foil strips.
The young man came back from the locker room and handed her the cell phone. “Thank you,” Lucy said before dialing Joey’s number. It rang once before his voice mail message came on.
“Hello?” Joey’s voice said. “Hello?”
Lucy knew better than to try to talk to the annoying recorded message that made it seem like he had answered. She waited for the beep. “Joey,” she said. “I had a vis-i-tor. I need to talk to you. Call me.” She hung up and typed in a text message to his phone: CALL ME.
Pressure built in her chest. She could have been strapped to an electric chair instead a leather massaging chair. Relax. Relax. Breathe. She instructed her tense body, but it did not listen.
P words: petrify, post traumatic, powder keg, pulverize… She started her calming exercises. She was safe. Bruno would never dare attack her in front of witnesses. And they needed Joey. Her breathing steadied and her vision cleared. The stream and violins trickled back into her consciousness. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
Her phone beeped. It was Joey. PARTY UNDERWAY. NEED ICE.
She blew out the last of her panic. Joey was fine. Fine enough to ask for freakin’ ice, which was no doubt code for the new security card. Aggravation coursed through her and she shook her head.
Joey and Gino could damn well get their own “ice.” She wasn’t doing it this time. They would have to find their own way into the exhibit. Gino couldn’t blackmail her with hurting Joey if he couldn’t call her or get close enough to her to deliver the threat. And it was Joey’s own damn fault for not getting out of town.
STORE RAN OUT OF ICE. She typed the text with pounding strokes. PARTY IN RIO. TICKETS IN MY CAR. TURNING OFF PHONE. She leaned back and closed her eyes, forcing air into her tight lungs.
“You good now?” Amanda asked.
She rolled her head to release her tense neck muscles. “Could I get another mojito, please?”
…
A few hours later, Lucy stood in front of a mirror in an elegant bedroom suite. Her upswept hairdo was all that—and a touch of Amanda, too. The only thing missing was a crown and a magic carpet to have flown her to her room.
Outside her double-locked hotel door, the large Viking-looking woman waited on her to finish dressing. Lucy was grateful for her presence. It all but guaranteed Gino or Joey wouldn’t bother her for more ice.
The woman’s nametag had said Lilly Belle. It was a silly name for such an imposing woman. She had to be six feet tall, with veiny arm muscles and stocky legs. She was about as much a Lilly as a rawhide bone, and even less a Belle.
Lucy turned to study her reflection in the mirror. Her skin glowed with exfoliated and mineral-soaked health. She wore the La Perla lingerie set that had been waiting for her on the bed. The bra and panties were white and made from the softest lace that cupped and lifted in all the right places.
The professionally applied makeup made her eyes big and her cheekbones stand out. Her face appeared more triangular, like a sultry pixie with good skin. Her hair was improved by the addition of lighter reddish highlights. Strands of fake diamonds glittered through her braided up-do like a princess’ tiara.
“Princess for the day,” she whispered to her reflection.
They had been too poor for new clothes when she and Joey were kids. While other kids went to the mall, she and Joey had gone to Goodwill. Memories of schoolyard taunts flooded her mind. Simon says: bend over and touch your toes… Oh! Look! Lucy has a hole in her pants, you can see her underwear! Hot mortification, now twenty years old, flooded her dressed-up self from her head to her heart.
Days like this didn’t just happen. There would be a price. But her heart felt like she had landed inside a fairy tale. She wanted to believe in happily ever after and magic, just for the night. Lucy sighed at the dilemma she didn’t exactly want to resolve, but she knew herself too well.
Pragmatism would win.
Guess you could change the clothes, but you couldn’t change the woman.
Lucy sighed and padded to the hotel window to peek outside. Her room was in one of the towers at the top of the casino that looked like the tines of a gold crown from the ground. The planes circling on the horizon seemed to be at her same elevation. She was very high up in the air. Her head spun and she stepped back and clutched the curtain for support.
Next to her tower, six other tined towers circled around the casino roof. The roof was green with palm trees and plants. In the middle, a long rectangular pool reflected the cloudless afternoon sky. At the pool’s corners, four oasis-motif whirlpools bubbled from boulders. She didn’t want to guess how much it cost to pump water, in the desert no less, over one-hundred-thirty stories into the air. The evaporation rate alone would be staggering.
Shaking her head, she released the curtain and walked toward the plush bed. A knit wrap dress lay in plastic sheeting for her dinner date with Alec. She had already peeked at the brand, Diane von Furstenberg. More princess material, but she knew it would be amazing on her curves.
Alec would like it…
Her toes curled in the plush carpet, and heat spiraled in her belly at the memory of his muscled backside on the massage table. She remembered the scent of moist eucalyptus and inhaled deeply.
The “you are mine” comment in the shower was a little stalkerish, but people said funny things in the heat of the moment. Hell, if he had asked her to, she would have pledged allegiance to the shower nozzle, and that was before the spa and amazing lingerie.
Enough. She was going to quit thinking and start enjoying. She picked up the beautiful dress and tied it on, loving the silken stretch of the knit material.
Alec was a once-in-a-lifetime fling, making her more a Cinderella than a true princess—her glass coach would turn into a pumpkin soon, whisking her back to her normal life. She would do what any intelligent Cinderella would do—enjoy her Prince Charming—until the fairy tale came to an end, and she grabbed Joey and boarded a plane to Brazil.
Two knocks sounded at Lucy’s hotel door. She startled at the rap-rap sound, and her heart banged in her chest. Lilly Belle had told her not to rush.
Could it be Bruno?
Her mind replayed the sound, trying to discern who was on the other side. The knocks had not been overly demanding, but still a solid rap-rap that knew she would open the door. Slightly impatient and confident.
Alec, it had to be Alec.
Nerves zinged along her skin, and the twin impulses to hide or fling the door open cascaded through her veins. Silly. Get it together.
Swallowing down excitement, Lucy took a deep breath and strode across the room to open the door.
Alec stood with his hands in the pockets of his black pants. He wore a white shirt unbuttoned below his collar, the sleeves rolled up his forearms. He grinned when he saw her and his eyes dropped to her high-heeled sandals, then tiptoed up her bare legs, to her waist, and her chest before stopping on her face.
“You look beautiful.”
Blood rushed to her cheeks. “Thank you.”
She should probably invite him in, but instead she stared at the ground, focusing on his shoes. They were black and shiny, and the hem of his pants broke over the top just right.
She acted like she had never been on a date before. “Would you like to come in?”
Alec’s fingers lifted her chin so that
her eyes met his dark blue ones. He smiled gently and rubbed the pad of his thumb over her lips. “Why are you so nervous?”
“I like your shoes.” As couth went, it wasn’t the greatest response, but at least it was honest.
Alec released her chin and looked amused. “My shoes?”
“They’re big and shiny,” she rambled. “And you know what they say about big feet.”
Mary, Joseph, and Peter. Had she really just said that?
Out loud?
Hot embarrassment flooded her cheeks and she chanced a quick look at his face. Alec smiled, and his white teeth stretched below amused eyes.
“No,” he said, but his wide smile said otherwise. “Do tell?”
“I, ah. I just noticed them, that’s all,” she managed, feeling like the village idiot.
Alec’s pupils dilated, and a tight intensity settled over his features. “Well, I am glad you approve of my big feet.” He cleared his voice. “I have a gift for you.” Alec walked into her room and opened an adjoining door. “My rooms are through here. Come on in.”
A gift? Lucy forced a surprised laugh through her throat and closed the hallway door. “That’s not necessary. The spa and the dress…” She was rambling, and Alec was already gone, rightly assuming she would follow.
Anger fired through her system—did he still think she could be bought? Even as her mind threw out the javelin, she knew it was false. Anger was just her go-to emotion to cover all manner of discomfort.
Alec Gerald unsettled her equilibrium in a way no other man ever had. Get a grip. It was just a date, a possible fling, nothing more. A gorgeous man, in a gorgeous place, whose presence just happened to shield her from Gino and Joey.
It would be fun. Fun, fun, fun.
You could package this evening and Alec Gerald into a silent-auction item and make thousands. Women would line up for hours to bid on a date with this man.
Win-win.
Right?
Nothing resolved in her mind, Lucy walked into the next room, still uncertain and unbalanced “How many gifts do you usually give to your women?”
“There are no other women.” Alec waited for her in the foyer near an elaborate wrought iron staircase. “Just you.”
Over his shoulder were a gourmet kitchen and sunken living room. The outside wall was made of glass and had wide sliding doors that opened onto balconies and blue sky. In the back, she could see the breakfast room they had been in that morning.
Lucy stopped next to him, feeling like Alice following the rabbit down the dark hole.
Alec reached out and pushed the frame of a Renaissance style picture of St. George and the Dragon to the right. A staircase opened in the floor near the glass wall with the sound of an unearthed crypt.
“I’d like to show you something.” Alec stepped down the first few stairs and glanced back at her. “You coming?”
Lucy closed her gaping mouth. “Where?”
“You’ll have to come to see.” His words sounded amused even as his dark-haired head disappeared from view.
Lucy hurried down the curving stone steps after him. At the bottom, she walked along a narrow sunlit passage until she came to a fork where two paths diverged. She could have been in Greece, exploring the pillaged Acropolis. “Alec?”
“Take the left path.” Alec called, his voice sounding very close.
Lucy stepped left. This passage was dark and lit by iron wall sconces. A huge steel door opened into what looked like a wine cellar. Alec sat on a stool in the middle of room next to a rustic table. “Come on in.”
Lucy walked forward with cautious steps.
“I’d like to test your senses with jewels.” Seated on the stool, Alec’s dark gaze was level with hers.
Lucy frowned. “My senses are excellent.”
Alec laughed, “I’m sure they are.” He handed her a blue silk scarf. “Tie it around your eyes. No peeking.”
Lucy closed her eyes and tied the scarf. Without sight, her other senses went into high gear. Alec still smelled like the eucalyptus steam shower. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, and she put her hand on the table to steady herself. The worktable was smooth under her fingers, worn soft by an unspecified passage of time.
Alec’s hand covered hers, and he guided her to the stool. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.” Then he was gone. A chill wrapped her ankles and snaked inside her plunging neckline. She heard Alec’s footfalls across the stone floor a few moments later. Lucy listened, noticing the way his heel struck and rolled to his foot pad in one fluid motion.
“Open your hand.”
Lucy un-fisted her palm on the table.
Alec placed a heavy stone in her hand. “Touch it. Use your senses and tell me what you feel.”
Lucy was intrigued. She knew her stones, but blindfolded? That was just silly. They all felt the same, didn’t they? No, her mind whispered. Sapphires had that heat trapped inside, emeralds felt like water, a diamond was cold like arctic ice, and a ruby was so soft that she always expected it to dent under her tools.
The stone in her hand was slightly smaller than her palm, uncut, and rough on its edges…except there. She ran her thumb over a spot as smooth as glass. A flare hit her fingertips, and she bobbled the stone.
“Easy.” Alec wrapped his larger hand around hers and set the rock aside. “What did you feel?” He whispered the question in her ear as if he wanted to reach her soul.
“Fire.”
“What does that mean to you?”
“A sapphire.”
“Very good.” Alec untied the scarf.
Lucy opened her eyes and squinted, disoriented by the return of her vision. On the table sat a beautiful red-orange stone. She inhaled sharply. “Holy Mary, Joseph—”
“And Peter,” Alec supplied. “It’s a Padmaraga Sapphire, still uncut.”
Lucy stroked the top of the stone, awestruck. “I tried to see one in Sri Lanka, but they wouldn’t permit a woman to view it.”
“Well, you’re seeing it now.” Alec leaned his hip into the table. “I’d like you to cut it for me.”
Lucy’s mouth opened, and the chill from the vault rushed over her tongue. “But, a Padma sapphire this size…it’s probably worth millions.”
“I trust you with it.”
Lucy’s mind immediately jumped to the joy of cutting the stone. She would start with the exposed part and let the jewel reveal itself to her before… Stop.
“I can’t do it.” She handed him back the stone. Her palm felt cold and empty.
“Why not?”
“There are ancient customs to cutting a stone like that. You should contract with a monk who is certified to touch it.”
Alec sat down on a stool on the other side of the table. “How about this then?” He set aside the sapphire and reached to the side. Straightening, he placed a rectangular wooden box on the table.
Lucy’s eyes widened. The box was one foot square, inlaid with semiprecious stones forming an infinity sign, like her daisy tattoo. It was wrapped with a gold ribbon. She untied the ribbon with shaky fingers and opened the box. It was a replica of the cutting set in the Israeli museum, but better. The handles of the tools were made with lapis and onyx and rose quartz.
“How did you do this so fast?”
“I have a jeweler. I have jewels. It was not so difficult.”
Lucy swallowed hard. It was all too much. What was she supposed to do? Get into her pumpkin and hobble home with a priceless cutting set and La Perla underwear? Good God. She would never be the same. And they hadn’t even had all-the-way sex. Maybe this was too much of a good thing.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Just say you’re hungry.” Alec seemed to sense her backpedaling. He stood and helped Lucy up from her stool.
Lucy followed Alec into the hall and stared at the cutting set and stone on the table while Alec re-engaged the vault security codes. Her eyes went blurry and unfocused as she watched the steel door close on the priceless objec
ts. The clicking of the locks felt like goodbye, forever.
“Where are we going for dinner?” she asked.
Alec held her elbow as they walked through the passage. “Anywhere you want.”
Somehow, Lucy believed him.
Chapter Ten
“So when I said Moroccan…” Lucy fingered a piece of flatbread. “I thought you would take me to Africa.” Her words were teasing and light.
“Next time.” Alec sat on a cushion on her left, one knee bent and the other leg stretched against hers. “I need to stay in town just now.”
They had arrived at the Moroccan restaurant off the Strip in the chauffeur-driven black Bentley and had been shown to a private room. They sat in an alcove with silk cushions on the floor, nestled around a knee-high table. Carved wood paneling and candlelight made the alcove both otherworldly and intimate.
Lucy took a sip of her excellent red wine. Alec’s next time statement annoyed her. It wobbled precariously on top of no other women, on top of the million-dollar uncut sapphire—it all seemed a Jenga game of fairy tales bound to topple.
“Tell me more about Lucy De Luca.” Alec ran his hand down her arm to the pulse at her wrist. It jumped under his finger. “What do you enjoy?”
“Besides spas and priceless jewels?” The words flew out of her mouth like a shield. They needed to get things straight between them. This was a fling—a fling to remember for the rest of her life—but a fling nonetheless.
Alec frowned. “I’ve offended you somehow?”
“I just…” Lucy sighed. “I’m okay with all this.” She waved her hands around the room. “As long as you don’t pretend there’s some kind of next time, happily-ever-after at the end.”
Alec leaned toward her and she leaned away.
“I grew up with con artists and grifters. My father went to the pen. My brother…” Lucy swallowed and refocused. “My brother will probably wind up there, too. I can’t live in a fairy tale.” She watched his face and smiled, trying to soften her words. “I’m attracted to you. Can’t that be enough?”
Alec said nothing, and his face gave her no hint as to what he thought about her speech.
Luck of the Dragon Page 9
