All I Want Is You

by Sherrill Bodine

  “Oh, I’d love something a bit more private for our celebration. Didn’t Ed arrange something special for Maxie here?”

  The gleam in Connor’s emerald eyes curled that forbidden heat through her again.

  “I’m sure there’s a private room available for us tonight,” he purred, kissing the tip of her nose.

  She took a deep breath, holding her grip on his arm to keep herself steady.

  The maître d’ hesitated for one sharp beat of her heart. Then nodded. “I’m sure something can be arranged. Please. Give us a moment.”

  He stepped away and Connor looked down at her. “How did you know there were private rooms?”

  “When I came in here looking for Maxie and Ed the maître d’ told me they were at a private party. Which I assumed must be behind one of these paneled doors.”

  The maître d’ reappeared. “This way please.”

  Excitement a hot band around her breasts, she clung to Connor’s arm to cross the room. The maître d’ slid open a dark door, which had looked a part of the paneling.

  “Please, both of you be careful. These steps are steep.”

  The staircase led down to a wide hall lined with brass art deco wall sconces and discreet doors set into the paneling in such a way as to be almost invisible.

  “Here you are.” He opened the second door on the right into a small wine cellar, filled floor to ceiling with racks of bottles. Piped-in music was playing Puccini’s Madame Butterfly and a round table arranged with china, silver, and crystal for two rested in the center of the room.

  “I hope this meets with your approval. I understand you’re celebrating a special occasion.”

  Without missing a beat, Connor pulled her closer to press a kiss on her forehead.

  “Yes. We’re celebrating the first night of the rest of our lives. We’ll need a bottle of your finest champagne and your most experienced waiter. I want everything to be perfect tonight.”

  Overcome with a totally inappropriate desire to melt into his arms, Venus buried her face in his shoulder, wanting to hide her reaction. “Oh, Connor,” she sighed, trying to play her part.

  “I’ll see to it,” Venus heard the maître d’ say, followed by the click of the closing door.

  She spun out of Connor’s arms. “All right, you can stop pretending.” Feeling him watching her, she prowled around the wine cellar trying to read wine labels.

  “I think you’re on to something, Venus.”

  Startled, she stopped and stared at him. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Let’s see how this plays out. I hear someone coming.”

  In two strides he stood beside her, his arm draped around her shoulders, his fingers tantalizingly close to her breasts.

  An older gentleman with a neat salt-and-pepper mustache came in carrying an ice bucket.

  “My name is Joseph. It will be my pleasure to help you this evening. Does this bottle meet with your approval?” He held up a frosty bottle of Cristal.

  Connor studied the label and nodded. “Yes. Why don’t we follow this with antipasto.”

  “Very good. I’ll get that started, but first let me pour your champagne.”

  Connor pulled out a chair and before her knees gave out on her, she dropped into it. He sat so close their thighs touched under the table.

  Joseph popped the cork on the champagne bottle and poured a small amount into Connor’s glass.

  He drank it and nodded. “Excellent. Thank you.”

  Her nerves quivering, she beamed at Connor while Joseph poured them each a glass and left the room.

  “A toast to getting answers?” Connor asked.

  “I’ll drink to that.” She clicked his glass and gulped down the icy champagne. Ever so carefully she inched away, breaking contact with his warm thigh.

  He leaned closer. “Don’t you trust me?”

  “You know I don’t. Well, maybe a little at the moment,” she murmured, “What are you doing? We’re supposed to be investigating, not having a four-course dinner.”

  “We are investigating. We’re looking for the information you believe we might find here. Trust me, this is the way to go about it.”

  “Well, when should we start asking questions?”

  There was a discreet knock on the door.

  “Now,” Connor whispered in her ear as Joseph came in carrying what looked like tiny paper-thin pizzas. He placed a plate in front of each of them.

  “This is our famous flatbread with our special blend of cheeses and herbs. Compliments of the chef.”

  She took one bite. “Delicious,” she lied, too nervous and confused to taste anything. It might as well have been sawdust.

  “How long have you been here, Joseph?” she asked as calmly as she could muster.

  “Forty years last month.”

  “Then you should choose our next courses.” Connor stroked her neck where her pulse pounded with excitement. “Unless you want a particular dish, Venus?”

  Putting a shrieking halt to her traitorous libido and wanting to give him a reality check, she stared deep into his eyes. “Tonight all I want is you.”

  At last he looked as startled and confused as she felt.

  Joseph smiled. “I’ll see to your dinner.” He backed from the room to leave them alone.

  “What in the hell was that all about?” Scraping back his chair, Connor stood to pace the room. All at once the intimate wine cellar seemed to be shrinking around them by the second and vibrating with tension.

  “Just playing your game, Connor,” she said, hoping she sounded calm and he couldn’t hear how loudly her heart was pounding. “Are you ready to get serious about this now?”

  Swinging back to the table, he poured himself another glass of champagne. “Yes, you’re right. We need to move this along.”

  He dropped down in his chair, moving it slightly away from her.

  A few minutes later, with another discreet knock, Joseph came in with an antipasto plate of roasted artichokes, peppers, asparagus, and Italian sausages.

  Connor held up his hand, stopping him. “Could you please cover that dish, Joseph? I understand there may be other activities we could enjoy tonight besides your fine cuisine.”

  Venus held her breath.

  Not by a flicker of an eyelash did Joseph give anything away.

  “If you’ll excuse me a moment.” He stepped from the room.

  Venus met Connor’s eyes and counted six thumps of her heart against her ribs before Joseph returned.

  “I believe your Clayworth uncles enjoyed our services in the past, and we are happy to offer them to you tonight, Mr. O’Flynn. What’s your pleasure?”

  “Poker,” Venus blurted out, rising to her feet.

  “I apologize. There are no games arranged for this evening. However, there are other games of chance available. Craps. Roulette. Blackjack. Baccarat.”

  Connor rose to stand beside her. “Let’s take a look.”

  Joseph led them to the end of the hall and opened nearly invisible heavy-looking dark double doors she’d thought were paneling.

  Hidden behind them she saw an elegant room with two tables of blackjack and craps, a roulette wheel, and baccarat in the corner. Every table was surrounded by men and a few women. Waiters moved among them with trays of drinks.

  “Where are the poker tables?” Connor asked.

  “Through here.” Joseph motioned them to a short hall and yet another dark, heavy door. “This is one of our two private poker rooms.”

  Shivers ran down Venus’s spine looking at the deep green-painted walls, the low-hanging art déco chandelier over the octagonal oak table.

  She could almost smell the cigar smoke. See the piles of money, the mermaid brooch placed on the table in wager.

  “Who arranges games?” Connor asked with an emotionless poker face.

  How does he do it? I’m burning up with excitement.

  “Alfredo will take care of whatever you need, Mr. O’Flynn.”

  “Has he been he
re a long time, like you, Joseph?” she asked, not able to hold back her feelings.

  “No. He took over from Mr. Marco, who had been here for years before I started.”

  This is exactly what we came here to find out.

  “How fascinating,” she gasped, deliberately stroking the mermaid brooch pinned on her shoulder, and pleased when Joseph’s gaze rested briefly on it. “When did Mr. Marco retire? I’d love to meet him.”

  “Sadly, he passed away three years ago.”

  Limp with crushing disappointment, she sagged against Connor and he held her steady.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sure he had wonderful stories to tell.”

  Joseph’s mouth curled ever so slightly beneath his neat mustache. “Mr. Marco had seen and heard it all but remained to the end the soul of discretion.”

  “Did he ever talk about the Saint of Taylor Street?” Venus asked, hoping for any tidbit of information that might help them.

  “As I said, Mr. Marco was always discreet. But yes, he knew about the good the Saint does.” He shrugged. “The Saint of Taylor Street is a phantom. No one knows his identity. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

  Connor’s arm tightened around her. “Thank you, Joseph. I’m sure our dinner is ready.”

  “Yes, indeed, Mr. O’Flynn. All is ready.”

  In a daze of disappointment Venus walked back to the small table in the intimate wine cellar with the faint scent of fermented grapes.

  Her hopes dashed, she watched through a filter of tumbling thoughts about what to do next as a plate of pasta primavera appeared before her.

  Going through the motions, she picked at the pasta and the grilled bronzini that followed.

  Once Joseph removed the plates and left the room, Venus looked pleadingly at Connor.

  “Can we go now? I’m sorry I wasted your evening.”

  “You didn’t waste my evening.” He leaned closer and stayed there as Joseph came in carrying dessert cheeses, strawberries, raspberries, and small Italian cookies, some with almonds on the top.

  The minute the door clicked shut again behind Joseph, Connor picked up a piece of soft cheese stuffed with apricots. “Here. Eat this. You’ve barely touched any food tonight.”

  Too emotionally bruised to defy him, she opened her mouth. “This is a first. No one has ever force-fed me before. It’s usually the other way around, encouraging me not to eat.”

  Shaking his head, he watched her.

  Burning with embarrassment for enjoying the positively sexual gleam in his eyes, she tried to chew as daintily as possible. “There. Satisfied?”

  “Not quite. Give me your car keys,” he demanded.

  She eyed the champagne bottle. “I haven’t had that much to drink.”

  “No, but you’ve had a lot of disappointment. When the limo comes to take us home, a staff member from Clayworth’s will be with them to drive your car home.”

  “When did you arrange that?”

  “I sent the texts on my iPhone under the table.”

  The idea of Connor texting like a teenager made her smile.

  “Good. That’s better.” He nodded. “Let’s go.”

  Too beaten down to argue with him, she let him lead her up the steep steps and to the front door.

  She mustered a smile for Joseph, who waited for them in the entry with a small box of cookies, compliments of the restaurant. “Thank you. It was a lovely evening,” she said as Connor helped her into her black cape.

  He shook Joseph’s hand. With a jolt of warmth, she saw Connor press a hundred-dollar bill into the waiter’s palm.

  “Thank you, Joseph. And if you ever remember any stories about the old days with my uncles I’d like to hear them.”

  Exhausted from disappointment and trying to keep her feelings about Connor under control and out of his sight, Venus climbed slowly into the limo.

  “What do we do now?” She sighed, tilting her head back against the leather seat.

  Connor leaned back, too, and turned his head to meet her eyes. They were mere inches apart.

  “Venus, we learned a great deal tonight. The existence of the casino and the fact people here know about the Saint lends strength to Tony’s story.”

  “I agree. But it’s not at all what I’d hoped to discover,” she gulped.

  His eyes were wide and very green in the dim light. “Did you really believe it would be that easy to find someone who would simply lay out the truth neatly before us?”

  “Yes,” she admitted without shame. “With me, hope springs eternal. You know that.”

  His slow smile and the way his gaze caressed her face and lingered on her lips brought a rush of tingling warmth to her numbed-by-defeat body.

  I want him to kiss me.

  She sat straight up in the backseat and shifted as far away from him as possible.

  “We’re almost to my place.” She looked out the tinted window, wishing it were true. “We need to decide what we should do next.”

  He reached across to stroke her arm under her cape. “Give yourself a little time, Venus.”

  With no way to escape, she sucked up the courage to face him. “Okay. We’ll go ahead with our plan for me to wear the brooch on Saturday night at the Dress for Success benefit. Until then, I’m sure you’re busy with your mother and her guests. I’m sorry I took you away from them tonight.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll be with the family tomorrow night.”

  Again the little twinge of unreasonable jealousy burned along her skin.

  “Good. Bridget needs you. I know how terrible this is for her. How is she holding up?”

  “Aunt Bridget is hurting. I think it best not to tell her what we did tonight. Don’t worry, Venus. Bridget has an iron will.”

  So do I, but I think it’s rusting.

  “Here we are at my place.” The relief in her voice sounded so strong she felt guilty. “Thanks for the ride.”

  She opened the door and bolted up the steps to her front door.

  Needing to escape from him, not wanting to wait for him to retrieve her keys, she reached deep inside the free-standing antique replica mailbox for the spare she kept hidden in a tiny secret pocket.

  “Venus, here are your keys. Your car’s in your parking space.” Connor loomed beside her.

  Startled, she dropped her spare key and they both knelt at the same time to pick it up.

  “Let me put it back in for you.” His fingers were dry and warm taking the key from her. His smile hypnotic. “We sell these mailboxes at Clayworth’s.”

  I need to do something to break his spell on me.

  “I know you sell them. That’s where I bought it. Before I stopped shopping there the day you disgraced and fired my father.”

  All at once the porch seemed too small for the two of them.

  Connor must have felt the wall she had thrown up between them. He backed down one step. “I’ll see you at the Drake on Saturday, Venus.”

  “Good night,” she muttered, not looking at him before she closed the door.

  She leaned back against it, thankful to be alone at last with her confusion.

  Tonight they hadn’t learned much about the mermaid brooch but she’d discovered a great deal about herself. Now she needed to figure out what to do about it.

  Chapter 14

  Connor’s office at Clayworth’s had always been like a sanctuary. Here he knew what he needed to do and did it without hesitation. Today his responsibilities caged him in.

  He paced to the window and stared out, trying to figure out what the hell to do about his feelings for Venus.

  He’d done his duty to Clayworth’s by firing her father and Venus had bluntly reminded him on her front porch exactly how she felt about his actions.

  It’s illogical to want someone who hates my guts.

  Looking over his shoulder, he stared at the locked drawer of his desk.

  Could Venus be right? Did I miss some piece of evidence with Alistair?

  He unlocked the dr
awer to take out her father’s file once again.

  Bridget’s abrupt appearance in his office made him look up and snapped him back to reality.

  “I’m done moping around,” she declared with her old fire.

  “Good.” Flexing his tense shoulders, he stood and moved to her side. “Are you seeing Tony to talk?”

  “Not ready for that yet. Don’t know what to say.” She shook her head. “I have some appointments. Already called your mother to cancel dinner at the house tonight. She’s not happy. Sorry to be puttin’ that on you.” Bridget kissed his cheek. “Have a nice time. At least your mom’s idea of your perfect mate is improvin’. That CeCe isn’t hard to take.”

  As his aunt Bridget had said, CeCe’s willowy blonde beauty wasn’t hard to take. Nor were her dry wit, her intelligence, and her kindness to his mother during the long, tasteless meal.

  After dinner, while his mother and Mugsy sat gossiping over sherry, Connor followed CeCe into the library.

  “Here’s your brandy, CeCe.”

  She looked up from the computer usually hidden behind carved cherrywood doors in one of the dozens of bookshelves. “Sorry. I had to check some emails for work.” She stood, taking the brandy snifter. “Thank you, Connor. I forgot to ask how your business meeting went last night.”

  A vision of Venus looking into his eyes, murmuring All I want is you and Venus again reminding him of the truth of their situation on her porch flashed through his head.

  He looked down, swirling his brandy in the glass. “Not as well as I had hoped.”

  “I’m sure you’ll work it out.”

  “I’m not.” He glanced up and for the first time noticed she was wearing the swan and bridge pin from the Service Club silent auction.

  “I see you were the winning bidder.”

  “Yes. I nearly lost it when I was dancing with Ed.” CeCe smiled at him over the rim of her brandy snifter. “But I knew you needed a few minutes alone with Venus.”

  He studied her, choosing his words carefully. “I apologize. I didn’t realize it was obvious Venus and I needed to discuss some family business.”

  “Don’t worry, Connor. Maybe it was obvious to me you were both eager to talk because I’m in the midst of my own personal drama.”