by Jo Leigh
She forced a smile. “You look very handsome.”
He came close, his scent assaulting her, making it hard to keep her smile steady. “Thank you, my love.” He stood in front of her, lifted her chin with the back of his hand until their eyes met. She gasped when she saw the malice in his gaze. He was enjoying every second of this, her knowing he was going to hurt her. Hurt her badly.
He leaned down, touched her lips with his.
She let him kiss her, forced herself to kiss him back. The moment she increased the pressure, he pulled back, keeping the contact light, almost tender. And then he nipped her.
She gasped, stepped back.
Todd laughed. Turned away. “Nick, my man. Go on, get the hell out of here. Find that pretty dancer you like so much.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a wad of bills, tossed them to Nick. “Take her somewhere nice. I won’t need you till tomorrow.”
Nick grinned, put the money in his pocket. “Thank you, sir. I’ll be here first thing.”
“Make it about nine. I have a feeling we’ll be sleeping in.”
“You got it. I’ll have the cell with me if you need me tonight.”
But Todd wasn’t listening. He’d turned his attention back to Jenny, dismissing Nick as effectively as if he’d shown him the door.
Jenny watched Nick out of the corner of her eye. He never looked back. The door closed with a click and Todd’s hand landed on her shoulder. He squeezed her there, squeezed hard enough to make her moan.
“You know where I want you,” he said, his voice low, soft, almost purring.
She swallowed. “Yes, sir.” Then she turned, headed toward the bedroom. She kept her head high, willed herself to stop trembling. But each step was more difficult than the last.
NICK WENT RIGHT to his room, to his bathroom, and started the shower. When he’d locked the door, he stripped, but before he got under the water, he pulled a small black pouch from under the sink. It looked like an iPod. He put the earphones on, pressed Play. But instead of the sounds of music, he heard a guttural laugh. Todd’s laugh.
The bug was in Todd’s living room. It was an extraordinary piece of equipment, built specifically to get by the sweeps of one of the world’s most efficient and sophisticated counter-surveillance experts. It, and three others, were the only microphones like it in the world.
Nick listened for all he was worth. He hoped they wouldn’t go to the bedroom. There were no bugs there. He’d put one inside Todd’s limo. The other was in Todd’s outer office. Nick had one more, but that bug hadn’t been successfully planted. It was to have been in Todd’s private office. The inner sanctum. But every time Nick had tried to put it there, something had stopped him. Something in the form of Henry Sweet.
He didn’t care at the moment. Not when he had to listen to Todd’s footsteps. Todd’s laughter.
Damn. Was that whimpering? Crying? Damn it, whatever he’d heard was gone. Todd had taken her out of range.
Nick couldn’t do a thing. Not at this stage of the game. But when it was over, the bastard would pay. Nick would kill him with his own two hands if he so much as raised a hand to Jenny.
Chapter Five
Jenny shifted on her seat, trying to find a position that didn’t hurt, but that wasn’t possible, even on the overstuffed chairs at Samarkand, Xanadu’s most exclusive restaurant, where Todd had taken her on their first date.
The waitresses, none of whom she recognized, still wore what they used to call Jeannie costumes: gold-brocade bras, white-silk harem pants, pointy-toed shoes. None of the women were more than a size six, and they were all stunning. The competition to work here was fierce because unlike most of the gourmet restaurants on the Strip, this place hired primarily women and the tips were astronomical. Only the cocktail waitresses in the high-roller suites made more.
Jenny had been right to wear her own horrifying outfit. The admiring glances from the mostly older men in the room gratified Todd, which mitigated his temper. Still, she felt naked, vulnerable in a way that would have brought tears to her eyes if she let it. But she had to be strong. For Patrick.
As the evening progressed and she adjusted to the truth of her captivity, she realized that what hurt the most was Nick’s complete turnabout. It just didn’t make sense. She couldn’t have been that wrong.
Somehow she had to get him somewhere they could talk. Somewhere outside of Todd’s reach. It wouldn’t be easy. God, it had taken so long for them to find all the cameras and microphones! And even when Nick was sure they’d found them all, it was still such a huge risk. To both of them.
“You don’t like the veal?”
She started, shifting her attention back to Todd. She knew better than to let her thoughts wander when she was with him. He always caught her, tried to trip her up, make her show her inattention. The least bit of daydreaming could end in another “session” with Todd showing her what focus was all about. “No, it’s very good.” She illustrated by taking a healthy bite, then washing it down with a sip of wine.
Had she been a guest here she would have enjoyed the meal. The food was exquisitely prepared by one of the best chefs on the planet, seduced here by Todd from his five-star restaurant in Paris. The wine list was unequaled anywhere in the U.S., and had been rated the number one cellar by both Food and Wine and Wine Spectator.
She might as well have been eating cereal. Another bite, another sip, a smile. Watch him, search for signs of a mood shift, a surprise attack; anticipate his moves, his needs. He wasn’t like other people, but he knew how to pretend. Most of his employees worshipped him, although they knew better than to get on his wrong side. They compared him to a mob boss, his regime a lot like the good old days of Vegas when the police knew their place and no one got out of hand twice. If you were in his good graces, it meant immediate rewards, monetary and otherwise. Promotions, bonuses, perks. But screw up and you were not only out of work at the Xanadu, but at every other hotel on the Strip.
She’d never liked Las Vegas. She’d only come here because U.N.L.V. was the only school that had offered her a scholarship. They paid for tuition, but Jenny had had to work to earn the rest, and where better to earn quick bucks than at a casino? She’d gotten a job as a cocktail waitress the day she’d turned twenty-one.
It had been a real learning experience for a girl from Kenosha, Wisconsin, but she’d been friendly and the tips had been more than she’d ever dreamed of earning from a part-time job. She’d even managed to buy herself a little used car, get herself some decent clothes and have a few bucks left over to take in some of the shows from time to time, when she wasn’t studying. Her life had been good and her prospects bright.
Then she’d met Todd and she’d gone right through the looking glass.
He’d dazzled her from the first. That he’d even noticed her had floored her. Soon, she was going to the finest restaurants, meeting celebrities, being picked up in limos and riding in private jets. He’d been the perfect gentleman, never pressing her, never trying to take things too fast.
She’d held off sleeping with him for a long time. Almost five months. But he’d made her feel ungrateful and selfish, and she’d given in and, even then, although she wasn’t sure she loved him, he’d been gentle, kind, patient.
He’d begged her to give up the job, to move into her own suite at the hotel, always assuring her that he only wanted what was best for her. Like a fool, she’d let diamonds get into her eyes, and it wasn’t long until she’d given up her dreams of a business degree, and she was his.
The last remnant of her old life left with the sale of her little Mazda, and that’s when things started to get weird. Nick had been her friend, her confidant. Todd had explained that she was vulnerable because of what she meant to him, that she needed protection, and she’d gone along with it, never realizing until too late that while Nick prevented anyone from getting to her, he also prevented her from getting out.
It all became real clear the day she watched Todd order someone’s executi
on. Oh, yeah. The picture had come into razor-sharp focus. Along with the knowledge there was no way out.
“I would think after all this time away, you would be brimming with questions,” Todd said.
She nodded. “I don’t know where to begin.”
He laughed. Anyone walking by would have thought they were having a wonderful time. “Let me guide you, dear Jenny. As in all things.”
It wasn’t sarcasm or wit. “Thank you.”
He signaled the waitress for another drink. He always had the same thing. Single malt scotch, aged a minimum of twenty-five years, straight up. “I’m a much wealthier man, for starters,” he said. “Plenty for Patrick to inherit.” He paused, narrowed his pale blue eyes. “A son, Jenny. You knew how important that is to me.”
“Of course, Todd. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“No. You were thinking. Only of yourself, however. Not of Patrick’s welfare. Did you honestly believe any child of mine should be raised in a place like Milford, Utah? That he should go to public schools? Jenny,” he said, shaking his head, “haven’t I taught you anything? Even if you were willing to slum it, he’s not your private property.”
“That’s true. I know you can give him everything, that you can make his future wonderful.”
“That nanny used to work for Princess Diana. She knows how to train a child to accept special privileges and responsibilities. You coddle the boy, and that’s going to stop. He’s not too young to learn his place in the world. Does he read?”
“Not yet, Todd. He’s not even three.”
“I read when I was three.”
She smiled, batted her heavy eyelashes. “You’re the exception to every rule.”
“As my son will be.”
“I’ll start working on it tomorrow.”
“The nanny will see to that. Tomorrow, you’re going shopping. I want you to have your wardrobe complete by the end of the week. Don’t get any jewelry. I’ll see to that.”
The waitress came by with his drink, and then she refreshed Jenny’s water. Jenny made sure not to look at her. When they were alone again, Todd sipped his Scotch, reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out one of his Cuban cigars. She hated them. They smelled bad and made his breath terrible.
“I’m going to be hosting a very large party on the Fourth of July. I’m getting rid of the El Rio, imploding the damn thing. I suppose you heard I got the approval for the new hotel.”
“It was all over the news.”
“The government tried to hold up the plans. I swear, the country is going right down the toilet.”
She turned her head slightly to the side as she slowly finished her meal, listening to his diatribe on how stupid everyone was in the government, how he was smarter than all of them, which would have been amusing if it wasn’t probably true. She’d heard it all before, over and over and over.
Still, she couldn’t tune him out. She didn’t dare. Something might have changed and she’d better be able to spot it if it had.
It was as if the world had stopped here. The past two and a half years were like some kind of dream. His ego, his temper, none of it had changed since the last time she’d seen him. Even the way he puffed his stupid cigar, as if no one else deserved any air, hadn’t altered a bit.
But she’d changed. She was older, wiser and, most important, she was a mother. Nothing mattered to her except Patrick. She would get him out of here, get him free. She had no idea how, but she’d figure it out. She’d done it once, she could do it again.
Last time, she’d had help. If there was a God, she’d have help again. She just had to get to Nick. Find out what had changed him. And how to change him back.
She needed him. In more ways than one.
NICK SAT UP in bed, gasping. Jenny. Her cries had pierced him as sharply as any knife and he had to do something. Now.
His bedroom came into focus, the framed print of a khalakha saddle across from his bed, right next to his mounted TV monitor; his dresser and the mirror above it; his own reflection, sweaty, hair all over the place, pasty beneath his tan.
Damn it. It was a dream. A stupid dream.
Nick ran a hand over his face, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, then climbed out of bed. He wasn’t looking forward to the day. Now, more than ever, he didn’t want to do what he had to. Jenny needed…
Screw that. Save Jenny or stop a madman from killing who knows how many? He had no choice. It would all work out in the end. But only if he did his job.
Only if he got the hell away from Jenny and her problems.
The timing on this couldn’t have been worse. He had to let Owen know that his situation had changed. That meant he had to be free of Jenny and Todd’s surveillance long enough to make a phone call. He’d work that out.
It was just past five-thirty. He slipped on running shorts and his footgear, and after he finished his crunches, headed out for his run. He didn’t take his phone. There was too great a chance he’d run into Sweet.
SHE SHOWERED until the skin on her fingertips pruned, and still she couldn’t get the feel of him off her. Her hopes that he’d leave her be at the end of the night had been foolish, she realized now. She should have prepared herself. Wishing for things that couldn’t be was wasteful, and she wouldn’t do it again. It made her weak and she needed to be strong.
She didn’t, wouldn’t, categorize her escape as wishful thinking. But to make it a reality, she had to be as focused as a laser. That meant total acceptance of what was in order to create that which would be.
While she was here, she belonged to Todd. She was his toy, his lapdog, and being an obedient lapdog was the only way to minimize punishment. It was also useless to dream she could be good enough to escape any punishment, because he didn’t need an excuse. Excuses were merely conveniences.
So she’d be good. Attentive. She’d even pretend not to be repulsed. Which wouldn’t be as hard as it could have been. He’d never focused his energy sexually. He preferred dominance. Power trips. There was little doubt in her mind that when he masturbated, if he masturbated, it was to thoughts of Steve Wynn losing money, not her in a string bikini.
All that worked in her favor. Once he felt certain of her obedience, he’d leave her alone for the most part. She’d be expected to appear at his side whenever necessary, boost his ego when alone, and from time to time he’d treat her cruelly. She could take it.
What she didn’t know was how much control he was going to give the nanny. Todd wasn’t going to let Jenny have free rein with Patrick, of course. But if she could show that Patrick would learn better, behave better, in her presence, then she might be able to have access to him.
If Todd decided to take Patrick away, everything was lost. She had to move fast, move carefully, and have a plan. Right now, that meant finding a way to talk to Nick. She had to go shopping, and she assumed Nick would be her watchdog. She just hoped Todd was sure enough about Nick to send him alone.
Once in the stores, she could find a moment, although she had to be careful, even then. Todd was full of surprises and having spies in the stores wouldn’t shock her in the least.
Discretion. A level head. Focus. The goal was to survive, to escape. And this time, to get so far away Todd would never find her.
Jenny turned off the water. She stepped out into his bathroom and took one of the heated towels from the rack. She wrapped herself in the finest Egyptian cotton, dried off. Put on the white-silk robe, dried her hair, brushing it carefully, and once it was the way Todd liked it, she patiently applied her makeup. Not as heavily as last night, but more than she would ever choose for herself. Only after she’d put on the last coat of lip gloss did she leave the bathroom.
He was up, of course, standing by his floor-to-ceiling window, surveying the town he called his domain. He was on the phone.
The butler had brought in coffee and the morning rolls Todd liked. She sat at her place, smiling as Todd looked her way. He dismissed her without acknowledgment, so she went
on to eat, to drink her coffee and wait. He’d let her know when she could leave.
She studied the room, learning details, making mental notes, but his conversation caught her attention. He was speaking to someone who didn’t have a clear line, as his shouting was more about being heard than cowing the listener.
“I told you, Potereiko, I need you here by July fourth. Not a day later. If you screw me on this, my friend…”
Something about that name rang a bell.
“Our Middle Eastern associate will be here in two weeks. He knows his bid was preempted. He’ll come up with something substantially larger, I assure you.”
She’d met a man named Potereiko once. He was from Russia, or Yugoslavia, or someplace like that. A big man, with bad teeth and the breath to go with them. He’d been an intermediary back then, for some equipment Todd was selling. They hadn’t met in Vegas. It was in Rio, at Defentech, the arms show, back in 1999. That’s right. They’d had dinner and the entertainment after had been a sex show. Potereiko had been terribly uncomfortable.
He’d struck her as the kind of man who’d always followed orders. That the dissolution of the Soviet Union had broken something in him, too. In fact, she’d rather liked him. Until, and she remembered this quite clearly, she’d looked into his eyes. The coldness there had made her think of Siberia. Of death.
“Just get it here on time, Edward.”
She went back to her coffee, not wanting to give Todd any reason to think she’d been listening, even though she’d have to have been deaf not to. He hung up the phone, came over to her, lifted her chin. “You look lovely.”
She smiled a puppet’s grin. Forced her eyes to admire, her voice to please. This was her life now. This never-ending nightmare.
JENNY KNOCKED on the door, desperate to see Patrick, to know if he was okay. She couldn’t stand the separation, it was like taking away the most important part of her, and she could put up with almost anything, including Todd, as long as she could be with her baby.
