Just like that, it was done. “Sure. Go ahead.”
By the time she turned around, Frank and David had retreated to the computers and were ragging each other about yet another game.
Next to her, Remy slid his hands into his pants pockets.
“They’re an amazing group.”
“Yeah.” They were there for her no matter what. Like family. She’d never realized how important that was to her until this moment. “We’ve got a busy day ahead, so—”
“We’re not going to bask in the moment?”
“No.”
“Not even for a moment?”
She let her gaze slide over his body. He distracted her like no one else. How she would love to give him her exclusive attention.
When the case was over? But then they’d be over, too.
The tender look in his eyes wasn’t something she was ready to deal with. She’d been honest, yet she’d taken a step she never thought she would. As was her normal routine, she tempered her feelings with sarcasm. “You’re not going to recite poetry, are you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Thank God. Let’s call the cops.”
THROUGHOUT THE DAY, Jade followed up on e-mails and voice messages. She made Frank take a nap. She fed David endlessly. She calmed other skittish clients, who wanted her personal attention for their concerts, movie junkets or book tours. She accompanied her present client to the police station, where they both signed their testimony concerning the attack of the night before.
She waffled from stress to laughter to anger and back again, but recognized the bodyguard profession wasn’t exactly revered for its stress-reducing qualities.
She constantly looked to Remy for support and advice, and by the time they’d eaten dinner and returned to work, her head was ready to explode. “Detective Parker is a pain in the butt.”
Remy glanced at her over the laptop he was working on. “Maybe we shouldn’t get into a deep discussion about law enforcement just now. I’m feeling bitter.”
She leaned back into the sofa and stretched her arms over her head. “Your boss launching an internal investigation will do that to you.”
“A private investigation, don’t forget.”
“He’s just jealous ’cause you’re so cute.”
Remy grinned. “Cute, huh?” He rose and walked toward her, looking more than cute. More like delicious. “Let’s go out for dessert.”
“Huh?” Maybe because she’d just thought of him as delicious, she wondered if that was some kind of code word for sex. “Dessert?”
“The sweet part at of the end of the meal.”
She shook her head. She was getting punchy. That still sounded suggestive. But he seemed serious about eating. And leaving. “We’re not going anywhere.”
“We’ll just wait for the bad guys to knock on our door?”
“No, but—”
He stood and held out his hand. “Let’s go.”
So, she found herself tucked into the limo and heading to a place that served dessert. Admittedly, Remy hadn’t put a gun to her head, but she was still certain she needed to be a million places besides this one. And when she’d lost control—and her mind—she wasn’t really sure, but she definitely had, and when she recovered she’d no doubt be pissed. But for now, she gave herself over to the moment.
“Where are we going? The Cheesecake Factory?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“We’re going someplace better.”
“My cousin-in-law’s bakery, maybe?”
He slid his hand along her thigh. “How’d you guess?”
“This is my security detail, remember? The driver works for me.”
Okay, so maybe she hadn’t lost complete control.
“Plus,” she continued, “the only thing other than work that could pull me out of the hotel would be Vanessa’s double-chocolate cheesecake.” She covered his hand with hers. “And I knew you’d try to get Lucas and me together at some point.”
“Am I that transparent?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“You shouldn’t push him away.”
“Because everybody near me is so safe.”
“Because he’s family.”
Her heart contracted. “That was a low blow.”
“But it’ll be softened by cheesecake.”
“Maybe.”
She’d already agreed to a huge compromise by letting them leave the hotel alone—except for their driver, Charlie. After last night’s attack, she was on edge. But at the same time she relished a fight. As always, she was arrogant enough to think she could beat the bad guys and keep her client safe.
She couldn’t imagine why anyone would take on a case without being sure it could be won.
But maybe the lull was part of Garner’s plan. He was crafty and quiet, and—if Remy’s suspicions were correct—he’d gotten away with murder before. She wasn’t sure what had been the trigger and wasn’t sure it mattered. Remy had the ring, and Garner would come for it. In person. Eventually.
“I won’t be the reason for you and Lucas fighting,” Remy said.
“You aren’t. I want him to be safe and we aren’t safe right now.”
“I won’t let anything happen to him.”
But she knew as well as anybody that things happened to people you loved no matter what you did. Fate crooked its evil finger, and everything changed. Could she have protected her parents the day they’d died?
If she’d run the security plan, would she have changed anything?
Through the NSA, she’d been privy to every detail of the shooting, and she’d eventually determined the protection had been impeccable, the motive unpredictable. The mayor had been an affable guy, loved by his constituents. Eventually, the investigation had determined that his likability had been the motive. The terrorists had thought they would get a lot more attention assassinating a hero than a villain.
Remy must have sensed her mood, because he squeezed her thigh and asked, “So is this cheesecake as good as I’ve heard?”
“Better.”
“I can’t wait. Until we get there, though—” he tugged her into his lap “—we could find interesting ways to pass the time.”
“We’ll be there in five minutes.”
He cupped the back of her head. “But I’ve been waiting all day for this.”
His mouth closed over hers, his tongue sweeping inside, firing her senses. Heat shimmered through her body, like a meteor shooting through the sky. She wasn’t used to this explosive rise to desire. If she spent a thousand days and nights with him would their passion grow tedious, become routine?
She didn’t see how. Everywhere he touched her she burned and longed for more. His body hardened beneath her legs, and she ached for him to fill her, to share skin-on-skin contact, to satisfy the itch he inspired.
She had managed to work beside him all day without jumping his body.
But it hadn’t been easy.
He squeezed her breast through her shirt. “Maybe we should have skipped dessert.”
She cupped him between his legs. “Probably so.”
“We’re here, Ms. Broussard,” Charlie said over the intercom.
Breath heaving, Jade jumped back to her seat as if she’d been shot. He always managed to make her forget where she was, narrowed her world so that only he existed.
“To be continued,” he said, kissing the side of her neck as the limo rolled to a stop.
She swallowed and didn’t have the nerve to ask if that was a promise or a threat. How did he recover so fast? By the size of the erection she’d been squeezing, he was as needy as she. It was damned embarrassing that she still couldn’t catch her breath.
At the back door of the bakery, Jade rolled her shoulders to dispel the lingering edginess and knocked. Vanessa greeted them a moment later, and Jade made introductions between her and Remy.
Although it was conceivable that Vanessa hadn’t met all of her husband’s busine
ss contacts, Jade sensed that the lack of introduction was more likely Remy’s decision. No matter how good he was, or how many precautions the NSA took, his life constantly hung in a precarious balance. He didn’t share his innermost thoughts. Like her, he kept people at a distance, keeping contact at a minimum and avoiding any involvement with their personal lives. It was an actual job requirement.
Their shared experience was something she’d never imagined she would have with anyone beyond a colleague. It fed their strong, sensual connection. It created a bond.
“You look fine to me,” Vanessa said, angling her head of glossy blond hair.
“We are,” Jade said as they entered the large, spotless kitchen outfitted with stainless steel appliances, tiled counters lining the room and a huge center island. “Did you think we wouldn’t be?”
Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Lucas was full of life-threatening drama.”
“We have had plenty of life-threatening drama, but that’s not exactly abnormal in my business.”
“Well, have some cheesecake.” She extended her arm toward the island, where two plates containing thick slices were resting. “Lucas will be along any moment.”
They dug into the dessert, while Vanessa kneaded a huge roll of cinnamon-scented dough.
“You’re not having any?” Jade asked, picking up her fork.
“Ugh. I’ve made sweets for three bachelorette parties, four retirement parties and five kiddie birthdays this week. I’m sick to death of chocolate.”
Jade shoveled the first luscious bite in her mouth and nearly moaned. “That’s even better than I remember,” she said when she’d swallowed. Her normal day involved guns and surveillance systems. Vanessa’s consisted of sugar, chocolate and more sugar and chocolate.
It was a weird, weird world.
“Thanks.” Vanessa’s gaze went to Remy. “Are you…okay?”
“I need a minute to myself to fully appreciate the complexity of this dish.”
Jade glanced at him to see that his eyes were closed. His face was flushed. His expression bordered on orgasmic. Clearly, the allure of chocolate wasn’t limited to women.
Pleased that she’d finally found a weak spot in him, Jade went back to devouring her own slice of cheesecake.
“So, Remy, you’re an art dealer, right?” Vanessa asked.
“I am. Mostly I commission work for my clients. Say somebody wants a certain type of painting or sculpture, or a specific work from an artist. I find it, and either buy it myself, or negotiate a deal between owner and potential buyer.”
“Let me guess—you’re responsible for that weird naked man bronze sculpture in our apartment?”
“The Christopher Hagan? Yes.”
Vanessa shook her head in amazement. “The things you boys can find to waste money on.”
“He’s the premier bronze sculptor of the twentieth century.”
“Well, he should have taken anatomy class before he went to art school. Legs don’t grow out of ears.”
Jade bit back a grin at the startled look of offense on Remy’s face.
“At least bronzes are a better investment than the traditional boys’ toys like boats or sports cars,” he said.
“Or planes,” Jade said dryly.
He hunched over his cheesecake and said nothing.
“So what happened?” Vanessa asked. “Why’d somebody shoot you? You sell a guy a fake van Gogh, or something?”
Jade and Remy exchanged a cautious look. They couldn’t discuss the specifics of the case with anybody outside their security team. Though when Lucas arrived—as Remy’s attorney—they could go into detail about some things. Lucas would certainly demand all the information he could get, and he was a highly intelligent man. It couldn’t hurt to have another opinion on Peter Garner.
As long as they left out any mention of the NSA, she didn’t see any harm in sharing anything in Remy’s past he felt comfortable talking about.
“No, it has something to do with Remy’s past,” she said. “We’ll tell you all about it when Lucas gets here.”
The subject of violence and mayhem aside, they talked about food. Vanessa was working on new recipes for a Turtle cheesecake, a key lime and raspberry tart and a peanut butter pie. Jade’s stomach rumbled the entire time, and Remy looked at Vanessa as if she were some amazing goddess who had floated out of the sky.
She also shared her recent successes with bridal teas and luncheons. She told them Christmas was always one of her busiest times of the year, but this past year it was not just busy, but wild. One executive of a computer graphics firm had imbibed too much from the open bar and wound up doing a naked Elvis impersonation on a conference table.
It was so refreshing to hear somebody talk about everyday events. Normal life. Jade had long ago come to terms with the fact that her life would never be that way, so it was wonderful to have moments like these. She was glad Lucas was happy and had found such a wonderful woman to share his life with.
When her cousin finally arrived, he kissed and embraced his wife, shook Remy’s hand then glared at her.
She crossed her arms over her chest and glared back. The man really needed to get over this little tantrum.
“Oh, good grief,” Vanessa said. She grabbed Lucas’s hand, then Jade’s, then forced them to hold hands. “Both of you are too stubborn for your own good.”
“I can’t talk about some parts of my business with you,” she said.
His green eyes hardened even further. “I thought you trusted me.”
“It’s not a matter of trust. My clients expect and get their privacy. And, in some cases, too much knowledge can be dangerous. I already don’t like the connection between you and Remy.”
“I don’t advertise my client list, for God’s sake.”
“Somebody could have seen you together. They know you know each other.”
“They who?”
She shook her head and released his hand, stepping back from him and his anger. The NSA kept very close tabs on their agents. They had to know Remy and Lucas did business together. And while NSA agents were the best snoopers she knew, if they could find out, somebody else might be able to, as well. She’d worked in the underground world of spies too long not to know paranoia saved lives.
“There are some things you can’t know,” she said.
“Then what are you doing here?” Lucas asked, his voice hard.
“It was his idea,” she said, pointing at Remy. “We’d like your opinion. We’re not calling you in for duty.”
“We think the shooting may be related to an incident from my past,” Remy said. “My childhood.”
Lucas’s gaze slid to Remy, then back to Jade. His expression softened. She knew there were ghosts floating around his past. “Trips down memory lane aren’t always easy.”
Remy shrugged. “No, they’re not.”
Lucas walked over to the cabinet. He pulled down a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, then poured a small amount in each glass. “I know you won’t have any, Jade,” he said as he handed Remy one of the glasses. “Vanessa, you want some wine?”
“Sure, why not?”
After Remy dragged over a couple more stools and Lucas delivered the drinks—he poured Jade a diet soda that she thought might be their first step toward reconciliation—her client grinned. “You see, I wasn’t always an art dealer….”
By the time he finished his story, Vanessa’s jaw had dropped, and Lucas’s eyes were glinting with a weird sort of pride. He’d boosted a car or two in his day. It was probably some sort of criminal-brothers-in-arms bonding thing to know that your client also used to steal stuff.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Vanessa said.
“No, I probably will,” Remy said, “though the good sisters continue to encourage me to repent.”
“So why would Garner point so obviously to himself?” Vanessa asked, the same question Jade had asked herself many times over. “Why did he call you? Why would he identify himself to that guy who tried
to attack you outside the club? He could have given him any name. Or no name.”
“Honestly,” Jade said, gathering everyone’s plates and glasses and heading to the dishwasher, “we don’t have a clue.”
“He wants me to know it’s him,” Remy said.
Vanessa shook her head. “But why—”
“To rattle you,” Lucas said.
Jade turned toward him. Lucas used to be an A-plus rattler, so he’d know how it was done. And it made a weird kind of sense.
“An attempt on your life would raise your public profile,” she said. “Smoke you out into the open.”
“Knock you off balance and distract you,” Lucas added.
“And it would bring me to the attention of the police—whom he knows I’d rather keep a low profile with.”
“He wants that ring,” Jade said. “He’s pissed you wouldn’t sell it to him, so now he’s hoping you’ll be shaken up enough by the attacks that you’ll be willing to give it up.”
“I agree,” Lucas said, sliding his hands into his pockets and staring at her. “Sometime in the next week, he’ll contact you and offer the money again. Or maybe a trade.”
She knew Lucas would offer a fresh perspective, even if she was a little leery of letting him get too involved. “Remy’s life for the ring.”
Her cousin was friends with Remy, so he undoubtedly didn’t like the sound of that. Jade wondered if anybody realized how scary that idea was to her. She didn’t see how, since she hadn’t realized it herself until this moment, as her stomach bottomed out and her hands trembled.
She fisted them and shook away the image of Remy lying on a cold slab in the morgue. She wouldn’t let down her client or her team. Remy’s life would be back to normal, and she’d go back to work. That was the way she and Remy had agreed things would be.
That’s what she still wanted, wasn’t it?
Yes. No matter how physically compatible she and Remy were, they were complete opposites in many other ways. The fact that he’d been a thief went against every sense of order and rightness she’d ever known.
“Oh, boy,” Remy said with a dramatic eye roll. “Now all I have to do is cool my heels, twiddle my thumbs and wait around for a killer to pop out from behind a bush and invite me to play Let’s Make a Deal.”
A Breath Away Page 13
