Through the Night

by Janelle Denison

  When Chase arrived at the security offices a few minutes past one in the afternoon, Valerie was already there waiting for him, talking and laughing with a blond-haired guy sitting in front of a bank of computer screens that monitored the entire casino. But as soon as he entered the room, her gaze lifted and found him, as if his mere presence came with some kind of magnetic pull that demanded her attention.

  She certainly attracted his.

  She said something to the guy, then headed his way, the pretty coral hue of her blouse complementing her creamy skin tone and the rich color of her silky brown hair. Her casual, flowing skirt swirled around her bare legs and drew his gaze to her firm, shapely calves before he slowly, leisurely, glanced back up and met her gaze.

  If she was at all affected by his unabashed perusal, she didn’t show it. Her expression remained neutral, and when she finally reached him, she greeted him warmly enough, but it was apparent to Chase that she was operating on business mode. As if their sizzling hot kiss last night hadn’t registered on her personal Richter scale. Which he knew damn well it had—a 9.0 magnitude shaker at least, the aftershocks of which he was still feeling. All he had to do was touch Valerie to remind her how soft and pliant she’d been against him, how she’d kissed him with such desire and hunger, and shuddered with pleasure.

  Unfortunately, she stood just out of reach. A deliberate move on her part, he thought with amusement. He was absolutely certain of that.

  She offered him a composed smile. “I’m ready to head to the airport when you are.”

  “Soon,” he said, glancing at his wristwatch. “Steven’s curator should be here any minute. He’s stopping by so I can give him the top piece of the cane to keep an eye on while we’re gone.” The collectible was much too valuable for Chase to take along, and until they had another component to the cane, the ivory top was far safer in the curator’s hands.

  Steven’s assistant arrived within a few minutes—a short Italian man with an olive complexion and dark, wavy, neatly combed hair whom Chase guessed to be in his mid-forties. Despite the other man’s paunch, he looked well put together in a tan suit and polished shoes. As soon as Chase handed over the small leather satchel he used to carry the cane top around, he introduced Tony Angeletti to Valerie.

  “It’s so nice to meet you,” she said, and extended her hand for him to shake.

  Tony didn’t return the gesture. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t shake people’s hands. I suffer from mysophobia.”

  The look of confusion on Valerie’s face was comical. Since Chase had already been through this with Tony, he gave Valerie the easiest explanation for her to comprehend. “He’s a germaphobe.”

  Her eyes widened in understanding as her hand gradually fell back to her side. “Oh.”

  “I know my disorder makes things awkward, and I apologize,” Tony was quick to say. “I’m in therapy to get past my OCD tendencies, but I’m not quite there yet.”

  Tony was such a funny, curious little man, Chase thought. From his strange issue of not touching people to his overly enthusiastic interest in his boss acquiring the rest of the Capone cane for his collection, he struck Chase as quirky and peculiar. The curator had been with Steven for only a few months now, and seemed to know a good amount of history about the ivory carving that Capone had commissioned for his cane, which made Chase wonder what else the man might know about the cane’s origin and purpose.

  He gave his head a slight shake, knowing he was being overly suspicious when it wasn’t really warranted. Tony’s experience as a curator came with a background knowledge of mobster history, which was why Steven had hired him to catalog his personal collection before it went on display at the Onyx.

  “A town car is waiting at Valet to take the two of you to the airport,” Tony said as he reached into the breast pocket of his coat, pulled out an envelope, and handed it to Chase. “Here are the hotel arrangements for San Francisco, just as you’d requested, along with a corporate credit card for any expenses you might incur. Also, Steven asked that you keep me updated on your discoveries on a daily basis by e-mail, so we have a record of your findings.”

  Chase didn’t normally operate that way, and was all about producing end results, which was all his clients cared about. In his opinion, a daily report was a bit extreme, and a pain in the ass to boot, but Steven was paying him a small fortune, and if that’s what the man wanted, then Chase would make sure he had a nightly summary of the day’s events and what, if anything, they found along the way.

  “And of course, if you need anything else at all, I’m just a phone call away,” Tony added helpfully.

  The other man was certainly efficient. With their meeting concluded, Chase and Valerie headed down to Valet, where their overnight bags were loaded into the vehicle and the two of them slid into the backseat of the town car. As soon as the vehicle pulled onto the main strip and headed toward the airport, Valerie glanced at him, cleared her throat, and spoke.

  “After what happened last night, I think we need to establish some rules about working together,” she said, her tone much too formal for his liking.

  He wasn’t all that surprised by her request. There was no doubt in his mind that last night’s kiss had completely rattled her cool composure. Hell, even he was still reeling from the intensity of their passion, but unlike her, he was up for exploring that desire, not extinguishing it before it had a chance to reach its full potential.

  But despite how much he wanted Valerie in his bed, he’d respect her wishes and give her the space she seemed to need. Because more than the physical awareness between them, there was so much more about Valerie that piqued his interest and made him want to get to know her better—quite an unusual feeling when it came to him and the females who’d come in and out of his life over the years.

  Then again, he’d never felt such a strong, overwhelming connection to any one woman before, and Chase was curious to know if it was all about their psychic bond, or whether there was something more at play.

  “I’m not one to follow rules,” he said in a lazy, teasing drawl. “But for you I’ll make an exception.” He winked at her.

  “Uh, it’s not like I’m giving you a choice in the matter.” Her smile was sweet, even as her words put him in his place.

  He held back a chuckle. Another thing Chase enjoyed about Valerie—she wasn’t shy about stating her opinion, even at the risk of putting a dent in his ego.

  “I need to concentrate on the case,” she went on, oblivious of his amusement at her expense. “And our attraction is too much of a distraction. If you expect me to perform at peak levels, then I need a clear head that’s completely focused on my psychic abilities.”

  As explanations went for avoiding the sexual chemistry between them, it was a nice, simple, plausible excuse. She obviously needed to be in control of the situation, and he had no issues letting her believe she was in charge. “Okay.”

  She blinked, clearly thrown by his quick acquiescence. “Well, that was easier than I thought it was going to be.”

  He shrugged. “I get where you’re coming from, and it’s not like I’m going to force myself on you,” he said as a charming smile eased up the corner of his mouth. “However, if you change your mind about this thing between us, I’m not going to say no, either.”

  To his surprise, she laughed, relaxing with him for the first time that afternoon. “Now, that sounds more like something you’d say.”

  “Am I that predictable?”

  “Predictable, no,” she said just as their car drove through a private gated area at the airport. “A flirt, absolutely.”

  She glanced out her passenger window and frowned when she realized that their driver had steered the car onto the tarmac and away from the main airport terminal. “Where are we going?”

  He realized she thought they were boarding a commercial flight to San Francisco. “We’re taking Steven’s private jet.”

  Her head swiveled back toward him, her eyes wide with dis
belief. “Get outta here!”

  “Swear. It’s right there,” he said, pointing to the Learjet parked on the tarmac in front of where the town car came to a stop. Most of the clients he dealt with were multimillionaires, if not billionaires, and traveling via private jet had become the norm for him. He was used to the extravagant lifestyle, and it was fun to watch Valerie’s reaction to all the fringe benefits that came with his job.

  “Holy … wow,” she said, still stunned at their mode of transportation. “I’m used to providing VIP treatment, not being on the receiving end. You get the best perks.”

  He grinned indulgently. “For now, my perks are your perks, so enjoy yourself.”

  Her bright brown eyes, flecked with gold, sparkled with unabashed delight. “Oh, I plan to.”

  They boarded the plane, met the pilot and copilot at the entrance, then headed into the midsection of the jet, where they were surrounded by rich wood-grain paneling, plush leather seats, an advanced entertainment system, and even a fully stocked wet bar.

  Valerie chose a comfortable-looking seat, and he sat down across from her so they were facing each other, and they both buckled their seat belts. Fifteen minutes later, they were taxiing down the runway and taking off.

  As the jet accelerated and lifted into the sky, Chase looked out his window to see the city of Vegas growing smaller and smaller. When he glanced back at Valerie, he found her sitting upright with her eyes closed, her hands clasped in her lap, and her head resting against the back of the chair. She was inhaling deep, even breaths, as if trying to stay calm.

  “Are you okay?” he asked gently.

  She didn’t open her eyes or look at him. “I’m not a big fan of flying, but I’ll be fine once we level off.”

  For him, the takeoff was the fun part of the flight. The thrust of speed, that moment when the plane no longer touched the ground, the gradual climb upward until the aircraft was thousands of feet above land. The only thing better was jumping out of a plane while it was in flight. “So, I guess I won’t be taking you skydiving anytime soon, huh?”

  That prompted her eyes to open, and the look of horror on her face nearly made him laugh. “God, no. Why on earth would anyone want to jump out of a plane and free-fall back to the ground with your only safety net being a parachute that may or may not open?”

  “For the thrill of it and the rush of adrenaline that pumps through your body. And then there’s always that natural high that comes with knowing you cheated death,” he said without thinking, knowing that was the biggest reason he took such insane risks with his life.

  “That’s crazy,” she said with a shake of her head. “You’re crazy.”

  “So I’ve been told.” Numerous times by his family, and by other people who didn’t understand what drove him to those extremes, the anger and guilt that ate at him. Not bothering to hide his sarcasm, he added, “I had a brush with death when I was younger, and I should have died, so what do I have to lose?”

  She looked taken aback by his comment, and he realized he’d revealed much more than he’d intended. Before she could question him and start up a discussion he didn’t want to have with her—or anyone else, for that matter—he abruptly changed the subject.

  “Would you like something to drink from the bar?” he asked as he unbuckled his seat belt. “Water? Soda? A wine spritzer?”

  “No, thank you. I’m good right now,” she replied, her gaze too intent, as if she was still trying to make sense of his personal philosophy about tempting fate.

  He headed over to the service area and poured himself a cola on ice and grabbed a bag of trail mix to munch on. When he returned to his chair, he was relieved to find her reading a book instead of waiting to finish the conversation he’d walked away from. Then again, the woman was incredibly perceptive, on many levels, and obviously knew when to let something go.

  With a little over an hour left on their flight, Chase switched on his laptop and perused the notes from his last visit to Alcatraz, refreshing himself on a few key points that stood out to him, which he wanted to explore further with Valerie. Since his specialty was touching historical objects, it had been difficult for him to get a bead on anything specific in the prison. Hopefully, Valerie would fare better than he had.

  One of the few valuable things he’d learned through intensive research was the name of a young nurse, Stanley Williams, who’d worked in the hospital ward during Capone’s stay there, and had more than likely come into direct contact with the mobster. Chase had hired a professional investigator to track the whereabouts of Stanley, if the man was even still alive, and hoped to hear something soon from the PI, with some kind of viable lead on the orderly.

  The plane hit an unexpected patch of turbulence, jostling the small aircraft and causing it to drop a few feet. Valerie sucked in a quick, startled breath. Her book fell from her fingers and dropped to the floor, and instead of picking it up, she gripped both armrests with her hands as the jet continued to hit a series of rattling bumps.

  Her face had gone pale, her body tense, and a look of panic etched her expression. Chase attempted to calm her. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just turbulence. It sounds and feels bad, but it’s normal.”

  The aircraft bounced and shook again, and she stiffened even more. “I know, but it still freaks me out.”

  Setting his laptop aside, he scooted forward on his seat so that his knees were almost touching hers. “Give me your foot,” he said, intending on both distracting her and taking the edge off her anxiety.

  She eyed him warily. “Why?”

  “Stop being so suspicious,” he chastised lightly. Reaching down, he curved his hand along her silky smooth calf and gently lifted her leg so that her foot was in his lap. “I promise I’m not going to suck on your toes or do anything else inappropriate,” he said with humor as he slipped her sandal off and let it drop to the floor. “I’m going to help you relax.”

  A delicate brow arched skeptically.

  Ignoring her misgivings, he decided to let his fingers do the convincing. In a slow, firm stroke, he massaged both his thumbs along the arch of her foot all the way up to her pink painted toes, and was rewarded with a low moan of pleasure from her that made him grin. As he continued to press and rub certain pressure points in her foot, the tension from her body eased—despite the few bumps the plane continued to hit along the way.

  “Okay, I hate to admit it, but you’re good,” she murmured, her lashes drooping and her hands no longer clutching the armrests. “Really good. Where did you learn how to do this?”

  “I was on a job in China about a year ago and I went to a massage parlor there,” he said as he applied a steady pressure with his thumbs just below the pad of her foot that coaxed a soft sigh of contentment from her. “The woman used these amazing massage and acupressure techniques on my feet and other body parts that completely destressed me. It was incredibly therapeutic.”

  Her head lolled against the back of her leather seat, and a lazy smile lifted the corner of her too-kissable mouth. “Did your massage come with a happy ending?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, not my thing, though it would be my pleasure to give you another happy ending if you want.”

  Realizing that he’d been very aware of her orgasm last night, a pink flush suffused her cheeks, and she ducked her head in embarrassment. “I’ll pass and just stick with the foot massage, thank you very much.”

  “Aww, you’re no fun.” He picked up her other foot and repeated the same process along the arch, giving it equal treatment. “How about you just close your eyes and completely relax.”

  She did as he asked, and he continued to knead and rub her foot as the plane finally found its way out of the turbulence. In time, and because he was enjoying this free moment of touching her, he slid his hands around to her ankle, then gradually skimmed beneath the hem of her gauzy skirt and up to her calf. The muscles there were strong and toned and so damn sexy, and he dragged his thumbs upward along the delineation o
f lithe muscle until he reached the back of her knee.

  He stroked his fingers along that sensitive spot behind her leg, envisioning what it would feel like to have her slender thighs wrapped tight around his waist, and her lips parted on a soft intake of breath. Oh, she was definitely relaxed, her body soft and pliant in his hands, but now he was the one who was suddenly tense, aroused, and very aware of her as a woman.

  Her skin was warm and sensual against his fingertips, and he had to suppress the urge to let his hand wander higher, along the inside of her thigh. But that didn’t stop his mind from traveling there and imagining her legs parting for him, welcoming the caress of his fingers in intimate places, the touch of his open mouth on her flesh, and the slow, gradual lap of his tongue all the way up to her …

  “Stop it,” she murmured huskily.

  Chase jerked his gaze upward and found Valerie watching him, her eyes heavy lidded and filled with desire, which completely surprised him. His hand was still on her calf, and while his thoughts might have gone down an erotic path, he hadn’t actually touched her in any way that could be construed as improper or blatantly sexual.

  “Stop what?” he asked cautiously, unsure of what he’d done wrong.

  “Stop what you’re thinking,” she said, her expression much too knowing.

  It took him a couple of seconds to process what she meant, but then it hit him like a ton of bricks. Holy shit. “You can read my mind?”

  She shifted on her seat, suddenly looking uncomfortable, as if she just realized how much she’d revealed—and couldn’t back out now. “More like I can read your thoughts, but not all the time,” she admitted. “Just when you’re touching me.”

  He cocked his head, both fascinated and curious. “Does this happen with other men who touch you?”

  “Never. Just with you.” She didn’t look happy about that fact, either. “It must have something to do with our psychic abilities and the way we react to each other.”

  He grinned, totally turned on by his ability to get inside her head and seduce her with his thoughts. How fucking cool was that? And just to test his ability, he held on to her foot and imagined his hand stroking her breast, his fingers plucking the tip until it turned hard and tight. Her eyes widened and she gasped as her nipples peaked against her top, as if she’d felt his caress.