“What was the whole secretary conversation about?” he asked curiously as he merged the car over a lane to catch the freeway leading back to the city. “Because Capone didn’t have a secretary. Just advisers and a consigliere. I can’t figure out that connection.”
“Capone’s exact words to Stanley were, ‘It’s in my secretary,’” she said, her voice ringing with absolute certainty. “Stanley kept asking him what his secretary’s name was, which just agitated Capone. He kept telling Stanley that his secretary didn’t have a name, which is kind of odd.”
Chase scrubbed a hand along his jaw, trying not to let his frustration get the best of him. “Yeah, I don’t get it, either. Do you have any idea what Capone meant?”
“Well, I could only tap into Stanley’s side of things, so it’s difficult to know what Capone was thinking at the time. But the one thing Capone said that I found very interesting was that he wanted the secretary’s leg before someone else realized what it was.”
“I don’t get it,” Chase said, totally confused.
“Me, neither,” she agreed. “The conversation was totally bizarre.”
Yet it had to mean something, Chase knew. They both grew silent as they each mulled over what she’d learned. From the corner of his eye he watched her quietly drum her fingers against her thigh, her brows furrowed in thought. Then she gasped and glanced at him again.
“What if Capone was talking about a secretary as a piece of furniture, and not a person?” she said, her eyes wide with excitement. “Do you think maybe the staff of the cane was designed into a secretary, which is a type of desk? The walking stick would be the perfect size and length for the leg of a secretary, or desk.”
Her suggestion made perfect sense, and tied in to other information he knew about Capone. “Oh, my God, Valerie. You’re brilliant!” If he didn’t need his hands on the steering wheel and his eyes on the road, he would have kissed her senseless.
“I don’t know about brilliant,” she said, her tone wry. “It’s just an educated guess based on the words Capone used.”
“I think you might be right about the secretary’s leg being the staff to the cane.” Elation and the need to research her suggestion in more depth had him increasing his speed just over the limit to get back to the hotel as soon as possible. “For years, Capone used the cover of being a secondhand-furniture dealer as a guise for his mob dealings, and he no doubt had connections to people he could commission to build a custom-made secretary to store something so important until he needed it again?”
He watched her process his theory. “So you think he hid the walking stick in plain sight?”
“I think it’s a huge possibility.” He turned off the freeway and navigated the street traffic to the Four Seasons. “It was probably a piece of furniture that was kept in his house in Florida with his wife while he was in prison. Why not make something so valuable a common part of a desk so that no one knows what it is—unless they know exactly what they’re looking for?” And judging by Chase’s extensive research, few people, if any, knew what the ivory cane itself led to, and just believed it was one of many of Capone’s flamboyant and flashy purchases.
Chase’s intimate knowledge of the ivory piece came from his ability to read the decades-old cane top. Had he not flashed on the origin of the carved ivory and emerald object of art, and the priceless, historical artifact it concealed, he would have believed it was nothing more than an expensive knickknack and most likely never would have bought it.
As soon as they arrived back at their suite, Chase set up his laptop on the table in the living room and pulled out a file folder of research and notes he’d collected over time. While his computer booted up, he pulled out a grainy black-and-white photograph he’d printed off the Internet—Capone standing with two other men—and showed the picture to Valerie. The gangster was wearing a power suit, one of his trademark fedora hats, and his right hand clutched the ivory top piece of the cane he was using—not because he needed the support, but because Capone had been a pretentious bastard, and back in the day, his extravagant cane made a big statement about his wealth and power.
“Check this out,” he said, motioning Valerie to his side. “Look at the cane Capone is using in this photo. That’s the ivory topper I currently have in my possession, and this is what the staff part of the cane that I’m searching for looks like. It could definitely pass as a leg for a desk, or as Capone told Stanley, a secretary’s leg.”
He flipped to another picture, this one a zoomed-in shot he’d had made that showed the gorgeous, intricate inlaid design on the walking stick. The staff was made of a rich mahogany wood, embellished with carved ivory lilies of the valley and was accented with green emeralds to match the top piece. The vinelike pattern spiraled all the way up to the gold ring connecting the pieces.
“Wow, that’s quite an elaborate leg piece for any desk,” she said, scrutinizing the picture before looking at him, her bright eyes telling him that she was just as into solving this puzzle as he was.
“I know, but it makes sense, and I’m going with it,” he said, grinning. That, and it was the only viable lead he had, and he wasn’t going to dismiss it without thoroughly researching the possibility. “I’m thinking there were probably two of the staffs made, so the secretary desk had two identical matching legs facing outward. That’s what we need to look for.”
“How do you know where to even begin to look for the desk?”
“I have my ways,” he said, waggling his brows at her, which made her laugh. “Since Stanley told us that Capone said the secretary was in Florida, that leads me to believe it was stashed at his home there, which is where Capone retired when he finished serving his time in prison. His wife, Mae, died in 1986, and at that time everything in their Miami Beach home was auctioned off with the proceeds going to his son. I need to find the auction house that liquidated Capone’s estate, and they would have a record and photographs of everything sold, and to whom.”
She stared at him in fascination. “I have to say, I’m impressed.”
He flashed her a smile. “It’s what I do as a procurer of fine things.” He winked playfully at her, then sat down at the table, cracked his knuckles, and prepared to get to work.
They spent the rest of the afternoon working together, and Chase was grateful to have Valerie as an assistant, which made everything go at a faster pace. While he did all the computer work and research on the various pieces of furniture that were sold during the Capone estate sale to track the secretary desk, she made phone calls for him as he needed. She contacted the manager of the auction house that handled the sell-off of Capone’s furnishings, described the desk and what the leg pieces might look like, and from there it hadn’t taken long for the woman, Sylvia, to find the information that Chase needed.
Sylvia e-mailed him a picture of the desk, confirming that the two front legs were exact matches to the walking stick Chase had spent the past few months searching for, and he could barely contain his exhilaration. Sylvia even knew the person who’d purchased the secretary, a gentleman who sold and traded antique items, and she was gracious enough to pass on his contact information.
Another call to Jack Harrison, the wealthy owner of the upscale Harrison House Antique Gallery in Florida, revealed that he still had the desk. He kept it for himself all those years ago and had it displayed at his home in Boca Raton and was open to selling it for the right price.
At this point, Chase didn’t think money was an object to Steven, not when it meant restoring the cane to its original state. But first he needed to see the secretary in person, to touch the piece and see what his visions revealed, and make absolutely certain that one of the legs belonged to the ivory cane top.
Chase immediately got in touch with Steven’s curator, Tony, who was equally ecstatic over the find and promised to make all the necessary travel arrangements to Florida so they could leave San Francisco by private jet the following day to get them there as quickly as possible. Tony would e-mai
l him an itinerary and fax over a copy to the business office at the hotel for them to deliver to his room so Chase would have a hard copy of the trip details for his files.
After disconnecting the call with Tony, Chase glanced from the pages of notes he’d jotted down over the course of the afternoon to Valerie, a slow grin spreading across his face. His heart was racing in his chest from the punch of adrenaline, and unable to contain the triumph bursting inside him, he jumped up from his seat and did a high fist pump in the air accompanied with a loud, whooping, “Yesss!”
Valerie stood in a much more sedate manner, laughing at his outward expression of enthusiasm. “Excited much?”
“Oh, you have no idea.” He shoved his fingers through his already mussed hair, still grinning like a fool. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe we found it, Valerie. We actually found the cane staff, and I couldn’t have done it without you!”
In a moment of spontaneity, he framed her face in his hands and planted a kiss on her lips before letting her go again. It was quick, a split second decision to express his gratitude, but no less potent than one of the long, lingering kisses they’d already shared. Just touching her made his entire body buzz with awareness, his lust fueled by their attraction and all the excess energy flowing through him.
A pink glow of pleasure suffused her face, and this time she did nothing to hide her desire for him. “I think you owe me dinner or something,” she said, her voice low and husky. “I’m starved.” She rubbed her stomach for emphasis.
A glance at his watch told him it was nearly seven in the evening and they’d been working for hours without food or a break. “The very least I can do is feed you.” He decided to do better than that, though. “How about a night out on the town to celebrate and have some fun? Dinner, dancing at an exclusive nightclub I know about, and … whatever else you want.” He left that open for her own interpretation.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” she said, and licked her pretty, tempting lips as they curved into a sweet, seductive smile. “Especially the ‘whatever’ part.”
Chapter Nine
Valerie followed Chase as he held her hand tight in his and pulled her out to the crowded dance floor of the nightclub he’d taken her to after dinner. True to his word, he was out to have fun and celebrate, and he was taking her along on the wild, thrilling ride.
She planned to enjoy every second of it. She didn’t let loose often, because letting go of her inhibitions meant relinquishing the balanced and stable composure she’d built her life around. But tonight, she was going to embrace her every whim and desire, including her attraction to Chase.
The atmosphere in the club was aggressive and energetic with an underlying carnal element that wove through her and increased her desires. The music was so loud, she could feel her body vibrate with the beat of it, each throbbing pulse matching the rhythm of her undulating hips. With all the people brushing up against her while she and Chase danced, it was difficult to ignore the heightened sexual energy in the place, and the steamy heat developing between her and the man in her arms. Nor did she want to.
Now that she was no longer resisting the temptation Chase presented, each touch, each caress held a high-voltage charge that tantalized and teased them both. They played with that fire, stoking the flames with their hands, the heat in their eyes, the deliberate brush of their impassioned bodies … knowing that the burn, when it came, would feel oh-so good.
After quite a few songs, she pointed to the lounge on the other side of the club, where they could take a break. She was hot and thirsty and just needed a bit of time to catch her breath before they hit the dance floor again.
He tucked his arm around her waist, holding her close to his side as they headed into the adjoining lounge and bar area, where the music wasn’t on full blast, it was less crowded, and the air-conditioning cooled off her skin. On the inside, however, the simmering heat for Chase remained, and she wasn’t in any hurry to extinguish it. No, that wouldn’t happen until they finally had sex—which was exactly where this night was heading.
“I’ll be right back,” she said just as they reached the bar. “I need to use the ladies’ room. Will you get me a water?”
“Sure. I’ll be waiting for you right here.” He gave her one of his sexy, bad boy smiles that made her want to jump his bones right then and there, no matter who watched.
Reining in that very uncharacteristic urge, she disappeared into the restroom. After taking care of business, she washed her hands, then stopped in front of the huge vanity mirror dominating one long wall where other women were primping. Her reflection stared back at her, her face flushed pink and her eyes dark and sultry. She dampened her lips with her tongue, and for the first time in years she felt sexy and confident in her feminine allure.
When she’d packed for their trip to San Francisco, bringing along an outfit to tantalize a man had been the furthest thing from her mind, which had left her with only a few options out of her suitcase. But Chase seemed to appreciate her tight, curve-hugging black jeans and the low-cut wraparound top she’d worn. One pull on the tie at her waist and the blouse would fall right open, giving him easy access whenever he wanted it. The strappy pair of black high heels she’d tossed into her bag as an afterthought made her legs look endlessly long, and she’d already caught him staring at her ass more than once.
Since she hadn’t brought a purse into the club, she improvised with Kleenex to blot the perspiration from her brow, and used her fingers to tousle her hair into a provocatively disheveled, I’m looking to get laid look. Satisfied with her appearance, she smiled at herself, more than ready to push all Chase’s hot buttons, drive him out of his ever-lovin’ mind with wanting her, and reap the benefits of all that testosterone unleashed and his gorgeous, rock-hard body.
She walked out of the ladies’ room toward the bar where he said he’d be waiting, and came to an abrupt stop when she saw who was with Chase. His ex-girlfriend, Angie, was clearly making her move on him—standing inappropriately close, with her hands on his chest and her lips tilted up in a come-hither smile.
Shock and jealousy rippled through Valerie, the latter of which settled in her stomach in a hard knot of resentment toward Angie. She glanced around for Russ, but didn’t see him anywhere. That didn’t mean the man wasn’t at the club, of course. Valerie was so stunned by the unexpected scene and her startling reaction to seeing Angie coming on to Chase, her mind struggled with how to handle the situation without causing a catfight.
Chase’s back was to her, giving her a straight-on view of Angie, and she knew the other woman had seen her. The two of them were having a conversation, but judging by Chase’s body language, it clearly wasn’t a pleasant one from his side of things. Angie said something to him, then brazenly ran her fingers through his hair, causing Valerie’s temper to rise. Chase jerked away from her touch in annoyance, jammed his hands on his hips, and shook his head as he issued some kind of reply.
Angie’s gaze traveled past Chase and locked on Valerie. The other woman gave her a loathsome once-over before looking at Chase again with a coy smile. She touched the tips of her fingers to the unnatural swell of the fake boobs nearly spilling from the bodice of the cinched, tight bandeau dress.
If the tactic piqued Chase’s interest, he certainly didn’t show it.
Very deliberately, in a way that made it far too easy for Valerie to read her lips, Angie said, You know you still want me.
Valerie decided that she’d had enough. Beyond irritated at the other woman’s audacity, she headed toward the two of them, refusing to let Angie get the best of her. There was only one person who was going to seduce Chase tonight, and that was her.
When Valerie reached Chase, she didn’t even acknowledge Angie. “I’m ready to dance again,” she said, curling her fingers possessively around his arm for the other woman to seethe over. The relief that passed over his expression spoke for itself, and eased any of the slightest insecurities she might have been feeling at seeing Angie’s
hands on Chase.
Just as they started to walk away, Angie shot Chase one last parting remark. “If you change your mind, you know how to reach me.”
Valerie glanced over her shoulder at Angie, giving the other woman a challenging stare. “Don’t count on it. He’s going to be very busy.” Meow.
She heard Chase chuckle, and when she glanced at him, his eyes were flickering with amusement and a deeper, burning hunger. For her. And in that moment, that’s all she cared about.
He put his mouth close to her ear before he spoke. “God, that was hot.”
She shivered at his words, and from the damp warmth of his breath on her skin. “You haven’t seen anything yet,” she said, and proceeded to make good on her promise.
With the pulsing music dictating the sensuality of her movements, and being surrounded by so many people, she let her body do all the talking. She was wanton and shameless, and pure static electricity flowed between them, physically shocking and wholly arousing.
She rubbed intimately against him, teasing them both, and loved the way he watched her, so dominantly male. She twirled around and tucked her bottom against his groin to tease him even more, and he caught her around the waist, ground his hips against hers, delivering a little torment of his own.
Chase didn’t know how much more of Valerie’s dirty dancing he could take. It was like someone had flipped a switch, and she’d gone from being sweet and ladylike to a risqué temptress straight out of his most X-rated fantasies. Not that he was complaining. But after nearly an hour of her brazen behavior, Chase was so hard and so fucking turned on, all he could think about was getting her alone, getting her naked, and getting inside her. As soon as possible.
He slid his hand into her hair, cupping the back of her head to bring her face close to his so she could hear him when he spoke. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Through the Night Page 12
