“Sometimes the past is hard to let go.” Oddly enough, he was okay if they didn’t find a lot of his keepsakes. “It’s silly, but I hope my college football team picture survived. Nate, Ty, Jake, and I played for the University of Texas in Austin.”
“Not silly at all.” Chris pulled away from him. She crossed the yard and hailed the leader of the crew. Minutes later, she returned.
“They’ll watch for it.”
That simple act of compassion meant a lot to Marcus. “Let’s get out of here.”
He opened the door to Kay’s sports car. Chris slid inside. Marcus paused. He squatted and rocked back on his heels. He owed her an apology and now was as good a time as any to give it. “I’m sorry for back there in the conference room.” He hoped she’d see his sincerity.
She frowned for a second. Then her blue eyes frosted over. “The kiss?”
“I let it get out of hand.”
She waved him off as if shooing away a fly, but he caught the hint of embarrassment in her eyes. “We kissed. No big deal. Don’t give it a second thought. You have your life, and I have mine. The sooner the killer is behind bars, the sooner I can get back to normal. We’ll both be happier.”
Her feigned indifference didn’t fool him. “Don’t do that. Don’t diminish what happened between us. You felt something, and so did I. You also know it would end badly, and I don’t think either of us wants that.”
She nodded her agreement but kept her face turned away from him. Marcus stood, walked around, and slid behind the wheel. His diplomacy never had won any praise, but he’d never handled a situation so poorly. Maybe he’d screwed it up, because deep down, he hadn’t meant a damn word he’d said.
“You call it,” he said, taking one last look at his burned house. “What store do you want to hit first?”
“The nearest drugstore.” Chris ran her fingers over her hair. “I’m going to make their cash register sing.”
“And then?”
Chris was silent a minute. “Would you mind going to Han’s? They’re fairly new to Texas, but I like the quality of their merchandise.”
“Works for me. You’ll have to point me in the right direction.”
“It’s inside the Galleria.”
“Just shoot me now,” he muttered to himself. “This can’t be a long drawn-out shopping spree.” He took the ramp onto the freeway. He hoped she wasn’t one of those women who liked to browse. After a few minutes of watching for a tail, getting off I-635 and then back on, he took a side road to a neighborhood drugstore.
He had to admit the stop at the drugstore benefitted them both. But Marcus had picked out and paid for his toiletries long before she’d settled on the right shade of lipstick. Then it was back onto the freeway, headed for one of the largest and busiest malls in the state.
Halfway through the store, Marcus wholeheartedly agreed with Nate that giving Chris a break from the case would help. His decisions had been easy—underwear, jeans, one pair of slacks, and a couple of shirts, and he was good to go.
Chris, on the other hand, had tried on half of the women’s department. He’d finally parked his ass in a chair outside the dressing room and watched the show. It wasn’t long before he was waiting expectantly for her to come out and show him the next outfit.
Nate always claimed to hate shopping, but that guy was so in love, he’d have gone in the dressing room with Kay to help her. The more Marcus thought about it, helping Chris in and out of those clothes seemed like a great idea. That kind of thinking caused him to shift in his chair and will away a rising erection.
Chris breezed past him, stopping at a full-length mirror.
“Well? What do you think?” she asked, doing a three-sixty.
“Aren’t blue jeans just blue jeans? They look the same as the last two pair you tried on.” They didn’t. In fact, this pair hugged her bottom, curving in just the right places, but he was having too much fun teasing her.
“Men,” she huffed with a grin. “I’ve got enough to last a few days. Let’s get out of here.”
“Music to my ears.” He almost acknowledged his enjoyment at watching her relax and forget her worries for a few minutes. The words rested on the tip of his tongue, but they seemed to be stuck. Probably for a good reason.
At the cash register, he insisted on paying for her new things, gathered her packages, and walked beside her to the parking garage. The scene was too domestic for him. Hell, he’d never spent this much time shopping with a woman.
He’d married Lynne while he’d been on leave, and their two weeks together hadn’t been spent in a mall. The few times he’d had a pass, they’d met halfway, usually somewhere with a beach. He’d never taken the time to do the simple things, like watching a beautiful woman try on tight blue jeans.
Chris slipped her hand inside his arm. He glanced down, soaking in the warmth of her smile. Admitting he’d had a good time wasn’t an option. His man card might be revoked if he said it out loud. It was best to keep that bit of news quiet.
“Thank you for the clothes.”
“My pleasure.”
“I’m letting you off the hook. Where to next?” she asked.
“It’s a surprise.”
The trip into downtown Dallas was pleasant. Chris, it seemed, was the only woman in the world who could leave the word “surprise” alone. Not once had she tried to pry their destination out of him.
“Want to hear something weird? I miss Diablo,” she answered her own question without waiting for his response.
“So do I. When we came back from Colombia, I took a few weeks off and spent twenty-four hours a day working with him. Now I feel like something’s missing without him along.”
“I love how he looks at you as if he understands every word you say.”
“He’s smart. Teaching him English wasn’t as hard as I’d expected.”
It occurred to Marcus that he’d been talking a lot, something he never did. He was having a hard time remembering she was his client. A vulnerable and scared client.
He turned into the long driveway of the Grand Herron Hotel, relieved they’d reached their destination.
“What are we doing here?” Chris asked. She leaned closer to the windshield, looking up as if to double-check the name on the marquee.
“We’re crashing here tonight.” He smiled, enjoying her surprise.
“I’m not going inside dressed like this. My hair looks like...well, like I haven’t combed it.”
Marcus killed the engine and pushed the trunk-release button. A bellhop rushed to retrieve their bags just as the passenger side door swung open. A man dressed in a navy blue uniform offered Chris his hand.
“Welcome to the Grand Herron,” the man said.
Marcus got out and joined her curbside. He reached up and caught her hand to stop her from pushing and patting her hair. “You look gorgeous.”
“Easy for you to say. The desk clerks will be too busy staring at your broad shoulders to notice what you’re wearing.”
“Really?” he teased. “Then stand behind me. Problem solved.”
She burst out with a robust laugh. Quickly, she slapped her hand over her mouth. “You made a joke.”
Caught up in her charm, he leaned down, brushed her ear with his lips, and said, “Who’s joking?” She visibly shivered, so he did it again.
She backed away as pink rushed up her cheeks. “We could’ve at least put the clothes in our new suitcases.”
The bellhop cleared his throat. “If you’ll follow me,” he said. With a sweep of his hand, he invited them to enter the hotel.
Marcus caught Chris by the elbow and guided her to the front desk. They registered and strolled to the elevator. The doors swished closed, and she let out a deep sigh.
“See? Nobody noticed us,” he said.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“A little.”
The corners of her mouth twitched, reminding him how soft her lips had been when they’d kissed. Enough. It would
be a long night.
He’d brought Chris to the Herron for a reason. She needed a break from fear, and that included not being afraid he’d make sexual demands. By the time they reached the twenty-fifth floor, he’d adjusted his thinking and was back in work mode.
Chapter 14
DaVinci closed his laptop and locked it in the safe. He was wasting time watching the tracking device on the bodyguard’s car. The vehicle had made a few stops around town before returning to the Lost and Found office. But it hadn’t moved for hours. Were they really still inside? If they were trying to make a fool out of him...well, he’d make sure they regretted it.
Tonight, he and his mentor would figure out how to separate Christine from the people she’d hired to protect her. DaVinci had no qualms when it came to killing the man who’d been with her for days. Excitement rippled through him. He had so much to tell her. So much pain to inflict.
He dressed in preparation to make an appearance at his gallery. Customers loved to meet the owner, and he would never jeopardize his business by not mingling with rich buyers.
The bulk of his fortune resulted from sales of DaVinci’s knockoffs of the great masters. He nor Michelangelo made claims that the paintings were authentic. What their clients told their friends was of no concern to him. He’d used a lot of that money to locate and keep tabs on Christine.
He checked himself in the full-length mirror. Michelangelo was picking him up at the gallery at seven for dinner. How would he react when he knew the truth? How much should he be told? After all, DaVinci’s trust had wavered when someone had taken a shot at Christine.
How far would Michelangelo go to help?
****
Chris couldn’t find the right words to say. The richness of the fabrics, the European-designed furniture, and contemporary paintings in the lobby had been lavish but tasteful. Her stomach had dipped during the ride up in the glass elevator, making her feel like a kid in her favorite theme park.
Nothing had prepared her for the luxury of their suite. The main room was enormous and filled with furniture upholstered in the same beautiful colors as the lobby. She walked to the small wet bar and ran her fingers over the polished wood. The carpet softened each of her steps, eliminating any sound as Marcus pulled the floor-length curtains back, revealing the Dallas skyline.
“It’s breathtaking,” she said.
Marcus turned and walked to the bar, propping one hip on the edge of a stool. “I’m more of a Fort Worth man myself.”
“You’ll have to show me your favorite places someday.”
“We’ll see.” His tone had suddenly gone cold.
What had she missed? His personality and demeanor had changed so quickly. The playful flirt, the man who’d sent flashes of lust racing through her system, had disappeared. In his place was the stoic bodyguard.
The desire to push him for details ate at her, but he wasn’t the type who’d be pressed. Not Marcus. He’d withdraw even further if she tried to ask him what had changed.
“Why did Kay put us here?” She swept an arm to indicate the room. “This is too much. Too expensive.”
“Not really. Nate did some work for the manager a few months ago. We get a substantial discount.”
Discount or not, she couldn’t allow Lost and Found to absorb the cost for even one night at the Herron. “It’s beautiful. But the cost should be added to my bill.”
Marcus’s right eyebrow rose. “You’ll have to take that up with Kay. She’s in charge of costs and expenditures.” He pointed at the closed double doors. “The sacks and empty suitcases came up ahead of us. Your clothes are in your bedroom.”
“My bedroom?” She opened the doors wide to find a king-size bed. The sacks of clothing were on a foot table. “Where’s yours?”
“The hotel has only one-bedroom suites. The couch has a foldout.”
“Nonsense. Those things will cripple a man your size. You’re not sleeping out here with a perfectly good bed in the next room. I’ll take the couch. Let me sort out our clothes, take my shower, and then I’ll turn the bathroom over to you.” With that, she closed the door, eliminating the argument she knew he’d been ready to unleash.
****
Did she really expect him to sleep in there? Her on the couch and him in a king-size bed? “Not fucking likely.”
The door opened, and Chris peeked out, just her head appearing. “Did you say something?”
Had he? If so, he hadn’t intended to. “Nope. Didn’t say a word.” He hurried behind the bar and got busy fixing a cup of coffee.
“Are we eating out or ordering in?” she asked.
“Out. Sort of. The hotel has a great steak house.”
“Nice.”
She vanished behind the closed door, leaving Marcus to wonder if she’d been naked. He grabbed his cup and moved to the couch. Sinking into the thick cushions, he decided she’d been wrong. He could stretch out right here and sleep. He’d get a hell of a lot more rest than he would if he took the bed.
He turned on the television and kicked back, clicking channels until he found the local news. While he listened to the reporter drone on about a traffic jam, he pulled his briefcase onto his lap and opened it. They were missing something, and he had to figure it out.
The killer’s pattern troubled him. Why had he selected six blue-eyed blondes? The other six were a jumbled mix, almost as if they were random. It was almost as if he had a split personality. Or...shit.
He fished out his cell and called Nate.
“How’s the hotel?” Nate asked.
“Plush. I’ve got something to run by you.”
“I’m listening.”
“What if there are two killers?” Marcus knew it was a reach. He hoped bouncing the idea off Nate would help sort it out.
“What’d you find that makes you think there’s two?”
“The differences in the women. Half are almost carbon copies of Chris and her sister. I know it sounds nuts,” Marcus said. “Saying it out loud makes me think it’s a crazy idea.”
“Partners are rare, but there have been more than a few serial killer teams in the past. The two cousins in California come to mind.”
Marcus heard a noise. He turned to find Chris perched on a stool. “Gives us something to think about. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
Jesus. She was stunning. Her blond hair had been tamed and pulled away from her face. Along with a cream-colored pair of slacks and a turquoise blouse, she wore skin-toned high heels. He forced his thoughts back to the phone call, wondering how much she’d heard.
“How’s my dog?” Marcus asked.
“In heaven. He’s on the floor with Holly and Kaycie. They’re brushing him.”
“Holly’s there?”
“Yeah. She’s thinking about moving back to town. She and Kay have been online looking at nursing colleges.”
“She’d make a damn good one. Give her my love.” Marcus hated not getting to see her. The fact she was even considering coming back to Dallas was a sign she was healing. “Diablo won’t want to come home after she and Kay get finished with him.”
“I’ll warn them not to get too attached,” Nate said.
“Works for me.” Marcus disconnected and got to his feet. “Give me time to shower,” he said to Chris. “We have reservations at seven.”
He hustled his ass out of the room before she could ask questions. He’d been speculating with Nate. She hadn’t stopped him, which he took as an indication that she hadn’t heard his idea about dual killers. Nothing good would have come from scaring her any worse.
True to her word, Chris had sorted their purchases and placed his on the foot of the bed. Her things were nowhere to be seen. He grabbed his clothes and hit the shower. Within fifteen minutes, he’d shaved and dressed. Slipping on the jacket he’d bought to conceal his pistol, he opened the double doors.
His heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t in the room. He’d left her alone for fifteen minutes, and she’d disappeared.
“Yeah?” Her hand surfaced first, grasping the back of the small wet bar.
Marcus crossed the room and leaned over the counter. “What are you doing down there?”
“I dropped a cup.” She tossed a piece of glass into the trash bin. “I’ll ask housekeeping to get the rest.”
Marcus offered his hands, and she took them both, allowing him to pull her to her feet. He had a choice to make. Drag her into his arms or step back. He released her and then quickly moved to the other side of the counter. It was best to keep some distance between them.
“I wouldn’t go anywhere without you.” Her eyes held questions. Like, why was he treating her as if she had the plague?
He shrugged. “I know. We’d better head to the restaurant.”
Chris slipped the strap of her bulky purse over her shoulder. Marcus fought back a smile. He understood how naked he felt when he didn’t have his Glock with him. She’d kept hers close by for a long time.
“You can leave that here.”
She didn’t speak or move for a few seconds. “I don’t like not having my pistol with me.”
“I’ve got you covered.” He saw the question in her eyes. “Tell you what. Let me have your gun.” He held up his hand to stop her from arguing. “We’ll stop by the boutique in the lobby and pick up a purse that isn’t so bulky.”
The corners of Chris’s mouth lifted. “Are you saying this handbag doesn’t go with my outfit?”
Business be damned. He crossed to her and cupped her cheek in his hand. “I’m saying you’re safe with me.”
Her small hand covered his as she leaned into him. Her scent, her hair, her nearness sent blood rushing from his head.
“I believe that. You won’t let anything happen to me. Will you?”
“No chance in hell.” He leaned down and kissed her.
Chapter 15
Marcus gripped her lower back and lifted her onto her tiptoes. His lips were soft, yet strong, as his tongue swept into her mouth and painted erotic images with each stroke.
Her purse landed on the soft carpet with a thud. Her fingers trailed up his rock-hard chest to the back of his head.
No Chance in Hell Page 13
