by Jo Leigh
“Sure.” He whispered the word into her ear and then was completely unable to resist nibbling on her perfect lobe.
She wriggled away, turned on the cushion so they faced each other. There wasn’t enough contact for his taste, so he pulled her closer, wrapped his arm and his leg over her side. Better.
“Are you done?”
“For the moment.”
“Okay, because this is important.”
He heard a slight quiver in her voice and he stopped fidgeting. “I’m all yours.”
She took a big breath and let it out slowly. The warmth of her breath hit him on the chin. It made him aware of the temperature, which was a little chilly. “Hold it,” he said, untangling himself long enough to find her robe and pull it over her body. Once he saw she was good, he got back in position. “Okay. Now.”
“Is there anything else? Do you want to straighten up? Maybe try on a few clothes?”
“Nope. I’m good.”
She laughed softly. It wasn’t really her laugh at all. While he’d never heard her cry out when she was making love, he had heard her laugh. Big-time. She had one of those laughs that make everyone else crack up, even if they hadn’t heard the joke. Hell, she made complete strangers break up just by hearing her let go. She hadn’t laughed like that in too long.
“Look at me.”
He focused, curious now.
“First, know that I had good reason for not telling you this before. I’m sorry, but I did.”
“Okay.”
“Patrick,” she said. Then she kind of swallowed. Oddly her eyes filled up with tears.
And he knew. “He’s mine, isn’t he?”
She blinked, releasing one tear. “Yes.”
Nick rolled over onto his back. Patrick was his son. His kid. Not Todd’s.
No wonder he’d liked the boy so much. Damn, he was a bright kid. On the ball. Good-looking, too. He’d be a heartbreaker, that’s for sure. Just like his dad.
Holy… He was a father. He had a child with Jenny, who meant more to him than any woman, any person, ever had. He hadn’t planned on being a dad, but man, he’d sure picked the right mom to do it with.
He rolled back onto his side and found Jenny staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. He touched her cheek, lifted a tear with his index finger. “We have a kid,” he whispered. “How do you like that?”
“I like it fine. How about you?”
He grinned. “Well, if you want to know the truth…”
She punched him in the arm. Hard. “Nick.”
“I’m knocked out,” he said. “No kidding. Patrick’s an amazing kid. And you. You’re…”
“I’m what?”
“You’re the one I’m in love with.”
“Oh, God.”
“And on that sentimental, sweet note, we have to get the hell out of here before we’re caught.”
“Right,” she said. “Exactly.”
Then she kissed him.
He kissed her back. It didn’t feel any different. Fatherhood wasn’t half-bad.
SWEET HAD DONE his homework. He didn’t need much blood, it just had to be as clean as possible. He’d thought about just beating it out of the guy, but Todd had said that that would have to wait. But the fight angle still appealed. If he couldn’t whack Nick, he could do the next best thing: watch.
“Uh, Mr. Sweet? Nick Mason’s kind of a big guy. Won’t he, uh, clean my clock?”
Sweet leaned back in his office chair. “You don’t have to go five rounds with him. Just hit him once, in the face. Make him bleed. That’s it.”
Frank Yoder, one of the security guys over at Le Mystique, looked as though was going to be sick. “Yeah, but after that, he’s gonna kill me.”
“No, he won’t. I’ll be there to stop him.” Yoder wasn’t thrilled and Sweet knew he’d like nothing better than to walk out the door and keep on walking till he hit Arizona. But the man had taken some serious markers out at the hotel casino and there wasn’t a chance in hell he could pay them back in a year. He was already having most of his wages garnished. “This will wipe your slate clean, Frank. No debt. You keep your hard-earned cash. All for hitting some guy you don’t even know.”
Yoder chewed on his lower lip for another minute, then nodded. “Yeah, sure. It’s a great deal, Mr. Sweet. You just tell me what to do and I’m your man.”
Sweet sat straight. He wondered if he should tell Yoder he wasn’t being asked, he was being told. Had he refused the job, he’d have found himself in the middle of the beautiful Mojave communing with nature. With both kneecaps broken. “Wise decision, Frank. I want you at the Mongol bar at Xanadu at four this afternoon. I want you to smell like you’re drunk. Now, I don’t care if you’re drunk or not, but you’re going to act like you are. You’re going to be real convincing. So convincing, there won’t be any questions later.”
“Drunk. Got it.”
“Good. I’m going to come into the bar along with Nick Mason. You’re going to come up to us. And with no warning whatsoever, you’re going to smash Nick’s face in. One punch, to the mouth or nose. Preferably the nose. Then two of my men are going to get you out of there. You won’t go easily. Remember, you’re drunk. Very drunk.”
“Yeah, yeah. Drunk.”
“You’ll be taken to a car and driven to your home. If you’ve done your job as described, your markers will be torn up. If you don’t… Well, let’s just say you wouldn’t want to find out.”
Yoder took in a deep breath and let it out slow. “I understand.”
“Good. See you at three.”
“Yes, sir. Three.”
Sweet swiveled his chair and looked out the window as he listened to his man walk to the door then leave. He loved his job. The best thing he’d ever done was hook up with Todd.
He thought about that a lot. How Todd had saved his life all those years ago. Taken him under his wing. Taught him how to dress, how to be strong, how to make everyone listen to what he had to say. Todd had given him a life he’d never have imagined. Hell, he was a rich man, and he’d only get richer.
He’d wondered what Todd needed with Nick’s blood, but he’d let the thought go. That’s one of the most important lessons he’d learned. When it came to carrying out Todd’s orders, he didn’t ask questions. He didn’t think, he just performed. It worked out well for both of them.
The only thing Sweet didn’t like about his job was that bastard Nick Mason. What did the boss see in that guy, anyway? He was always with the questions, always second-guessing Todd. And Todd didn’t seem to mind, which Sweet didn’t understand at all. But Todd had said to let it be. So Sweet had.
Now it looked as though Todd had seen the light. Whatever Nick had done, he’d pissed the boss off, and that was just fine. Probably tried to get into Jenny’s pants, which was like the stupidest thing anyone could do. Didn’t Mason get it? Jenny was Todd’s property. Mason might as well try to steal Xanadu from under Todd’s nose.
Sweet knew just how he wanted to kill Mason. He’d thought about it a lot. Discarded a whole bunch of plans as too easy. Not painful enough. He had it now, though. It would take almost a full day. Yeah. Watch the man squirm like a worm on a hook. It was gonna be great.
JENNY FINISHED APPLYING her lip gloss, checked herself in the mirror one last time, then headed out. She was having lunch with Todd. They were going to discuss the wedding. It was ludicrous. They never discussed anything. Todd simply told her what was going to happen and that was that. The difference here was that she knew the wedding wasn’t going to take place. All she had to do was not give herself away. It would be tempting to sit back and relax, to let the whole thing pass in a blur. But then Todd would know something was up. She had to act as if she really did think the wedding was going to happen and that she hated the idea, but was pretend ing not to hate the idea. Too complicated. Too many ways it could go wrong.
She also had to avoid thinking about Nick. Nothing would broadcast trouble to Todd more than the goofy grin th
at was just aching to come out. Nick loved her. Nick loved that they had Patrick. Nick was a good guy. It was almost too much to believe.
If she’d been superstitious, she’d be real nervous right now. Jenny laughed. Would be real nervous? She could feel her heart quaking in her chest.
Nothing could go wrong now. Nothing. She could practically feel the end in sight. She just prayed that the light at the end of the tunnel wasn’t a speeding train.
She made it to his suite and knocked. Bill Hodges, her part-time keeper, opened the door.
“Mr. Todd’s in his office. He asked you to go right in.”
“Thank you, Bill.”
“No problem.”
She liked the kid. He was polite, if a little too serious. She wanted to tell him to get out now, but of course, she couldn’t. He was still in the hero-worship phase of working for Todd. She’d seen it a lot. Todd was such a persuasive, charismatic man, it was hard for people to believe he was so evil. No one believed it until it was too late. Like a snake charmer, Todd mesmerized his minions and then struck when they were most vulnerable.
If she had a chance, she’d tell Nick to go easy on Bill. And Mrs. Norris. But then Nick already knew about Mrs. Norris. Bless her heart.
Jenny pulled her head out of the clouds as she walked into Todd’s office. He was on the phone, pacing in front of his desk. Across the way, on the conference table, was their lunch. It was an amazing spread of meticulously prepared delicacies, complete with little cards in front of each dish, so they’d know what they were eating. Sautéed foie gras with sour cherries, amaretto polenta and micro greens. Lobster salad with truffle dressing. Vanilla and lemongrass parfait with a rhubarb fruit salad. She’d kill for a Jack in the Box taco.
Instead she sat and took a taste of the foie gras, which, okay, was phenomenal. But still…
“I’ve got a suite ready for you, Potereiko. Surely you’re not going to deny me a chance to play host to such an old friend.”
Jenny stilled at the mention of the Ukrainian. This was the second time she’d heard Todd talk with him. As far as she knew, all Potereiko did was sell armaments. Could he be the dealer Nick was looking for?
“Fine, fine. Yes, in public. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, but fine. You realize there’s going to be almost three hundred thousand people here.”
She took another bite of something, a tomato, and said a silent prayer that Todd would say where they were meeting. What time.
“I’m sure we will. Yes. I assure you, nothing will go wrong. Until then, comrade.”
Jenny sipped her water as Todd hung up the phone. When he turned to her it was with a suspicious eye, but that wasn’t unusual. All she had to do was to keep her cool, keep it together.
Todd came over to the table and sat across from her. He ate for a few minutes in silence. Then he cleared his throat. “We’ll be married at midnight. In the atrium of The Mystique. Invited guests only. I have someone bringing dresses, in about a half hour. I’ve been assured the dress will be ready by six tomorrow night. I’ll want you and Patrick dressed and ready to go at nine.”
“Patrick?”
“He can sleep again once you’re at The Mystique. But I want him at the ceremony. I’m going to leave you two there while I go to the implosion. When I finish there, I’ll meet you at the atrium. I’ve planned everything so we’ll say our vows at the stroke of midnight, when the fireworks light up the city.”
“It sounds wonderful, Todd. We’ll be ready.”
“Good.” Todd took a tape recorder out of his breast pocket, turned it on and dictated for the remainder of lunch. Jenny ate as much as she thought he’d want her too, then waited, wondering what kind of wedding dress Todd would approve of. Something to go with the pink diamond, probably. Gaudy. Expensive beyond belief. It was all so insane.
She needed to tell Nick about the wedding plans. The perfect time for the rescue would be when Todd was at the implosion. She simply wouldn’t be there when he came back to The Mystique. Of course, he would probably be in custody by then.
When the designer arrived, she’d had her fill of lunch and listening to Todd. Not that he talked to her. She just didn’t want to hear from him anymore. It was like listening to nails on a chalkboard and being the fawning fiancée was becoming more unbearable by the second.
She eagerly tried on every dress in the batch—all fourteen of them. None of them were over-the-top risqué, which was amazing, and the one Todd chose was actually attractive. White, with pink details, it was a short dress, strapless and, she had to admit, beautiful.
There were also a selection of shoes, all in her size, and he chose the Jimmy Choo sandals with the strappy heel. She wasn’t terribly comfortable in them, but that was okay. She wouldn’t put them on till she had to.
No veil, thank goodness, and they would have a bouquet for her at the atrium.
In three hours they’d finished and Todd told her to go back to her room to pack. They were going to leave the day after tomorrow. On the fifth. She kissed him on the cheek, he grunted, and she went back to her room. She wasn’t at all surprised to see that a matching set of Gucci luggage had been put in her bedroom. How convenient. When the FBI arrived, she’d be all ready to go.
Chapter Fifteen
The meeting was damned inconvenient. Nick had intended to get out of the hotel to meet with Owen about tomorrow. This was the largest bust in the city’s history and it would be scrutinized by law enforcement and the media for years to come. There was no room for error. But now was not the time to piss off Todd, so he’d postponed his meeting with Owen and was headed down to the Mogul to meet Henry Sweet and the travel planner to coordinate Todd’s departure on the fifth.
He made his way through the happy-hour crowd. Stupid to meet here, but then Sweet liked his afternoon cocktail. Most of the patrons were at the bar, drinking, smoking and playing video poker. Sweet had his usual booth at the back.
Nick checked his watch as he slid in across from Sweet. “Where’s Orchid?”
“She’s running late.”
Nick cursed. “I have things to do.”
“Sit tight. She’ll be here soon enough.”
“Now would be soon enough.”
“Have a drink. You could use one.”
He grabbed a menu and checked out the lunch specials. “Some of us have schedules to keep. Tomorrow is gonna be a bitch and I don’t want anything to go wrong.”
“You’ve got a point. Todd won’t be happy if his special day gets screwed up.”
“Hey.”
Nick looked up to see a man he didn’t recognize glaring at him. The smell told him the guy had been having one hell of a happy hour. “Get lost.”
“You’re the man I came here to see.”
“I don’t know you, or want to. So just move along, buddy.”
The man, who Nick guessed was in his late twenties, was dressed in an off-the-rack suit with a cheap tie, but he was well put together. His hair stuck out in a few places and his speech had that sloppy-drunk feel that would turn quickly into slurred mumbling. He lurched forward, bumping into the table.
Nick stood. “Let’s go get you a cab, buddy. You go home and sleep it off.” He reached over to grab the guy’s arm, but the drunk stepped back. Just as Nick was about to turn and signal the waitress to get security, a fist smashed him on the side of his nose, knocking him to the wall. Pain blossomed as he felt a gush of hot blood on his upper lip. “Son of a bitch!”
He reached for a napkin on the table, but Sweet beat him to it, handing him a white handkerchief.
The blow had been seen by half the bar and security arrived before Nick had a chance to turn the drunk into paste. They hustled the guy out and Nick heard someone call for a medic.
He sat down, still pressing the handkerchief to his face, and signaled the waitress.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Mason. Is there anything I can do?”
“Yeah. Bring me a whiskey and a glass of ice.”
Nick turned to Sweet. “Great idea, coming here for the meeting.”
“What’d you do to that guy? Screw his girlfriend?”
“I’ve never seen him before in my life.”
Sweet grinned. An honest-to-God smile. “Well, he sure as hell acted like he knew you.”
“So glad I could entertain you.”
“Hey, this was better than a show.”
Nick told him where he could put his cocktail, then the medic arrived, carrying a big red box with a big white cross on it.
“Wow, Mr. Mason, what happened?”
“Nothing some time and a few hundred aspirins won’t cure. I’m fine. You didn’t need to come all the way here.”
The medic, Iona, was a nice-looking woman he’d seen often in the employee lounge, although they’d only spoken a few times. “Let me be the judge of that,” she said, reaching for the handkerchief.
“I’ll take it, if you don’t mind,” Sweet said. “It was my father’s.”
Iona got an extra rubber glove and wrapped the stained cloth before she handed it to Sweet. Then she turned back to Nick. “Doesn’t look like he broke anything except the skin. You’ll have a bruise, but not a bad one.”
Sweet got out of the booth. “I’m gonna go see Orchid myself. I’ll let you know later what you need to do.”
“Gee, thanks, Henry. You’re a pal.”
“Glad to oblige,” he said, still smirking.
“Bastard,” Nick whispered, then let it go. He let Iona do her thing with a butterfly bandage, took the ice pack she offered and stuck it on his face. When the whiskey came, he used it to take four aspirin then, without leaving a tip, he left.
He had to find Owen. Now. He needed to change his instructions about Henry Sweet.
JENNY DECIDED that the only bag she’d take was the overnight case. Heeding Nick’s advice, she put all the jewelry Todd had given her in silk pouches, then into the Gucci jewelry bag. She didn’t bother with makeup, but she did add some of the creams and shampoos she’d picked up. Who knows where she’d be tomorrow night? Would they send her away immediately to some remote hiding place or take her to FBI headquarters? She wished she could talk to Nick about it.
