After dinner, she and Josh danced, mingled and went out onto the balcony for fresh air, all the while waiting and wondering what Carranza had planned next. Though they’d spoken at intervals during the party, Carranza had made no more mention of his interest in the Ivanov necklace. He was again pleasant and charming. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he’d accepted her refusal to sell him the piece.
The night wore on. People gradually retired for the evening, and Paige grew weary, too. She hated to think that all the preparation for this weekend would be for nothing-she also didn’t want to leave Miami with Carranza still on the loose, and Josh in the midst of the danger surrounding the case.
Out on the dance floor, Josh held her securely as they moved to a slow ballad, along with several other couples still enjoying the evening’s festivities. With every shift of her body against Josh’s, she became increasingly aware of the uncomfortable pressure low in her belly-nature had been calling for the past two hours.
“Josh, I really have to go to the ladies’ room,” she said, more urgently than the other two times she’d made the same request.
He frowned, the hand resting at the base of her spine tightening perceptively. “Can’t you hold it a little while longer?”
If the situation hadn’t become so dire, she would have laughed. “No,” she groaned, her frustration coming through in the tone of her voice. “Between the three glasses of water I drank during dinner and the soda I just finished, my bladder is going to explode if I don’t empty it. And soon.” Glancing around the ballroom, she found Carranza. “Victor and Bridget are busy talking to that group of people. You keep an eye on them, and I’ll be back in less than two minutes,” she suggested, knowing how odd it would look for Josh to accompany her to the rest room and stand guard.
Hesitant emotions entered his gaze. He clearly didn’t want her out of his sight, not even to take care of a necessity.
“Josh, I’m wired,” she reminded him in a low voice. “There’ll be two dozen men in that rest room with me.”
An amused smile kicked up the corner of his mouth. “You’re right,” he conceded, casting a glance toward the hired bartender. The man gave a barely discernible nod to indicate he’d heard them.
Reluctantly, Josh let her go, and she headed toward a hallway that took her out of Josh’s line of vision and led to a rest room. Thankfully, it was unoccupied. Locking the door behind her, she took care of business as quickly as possible. While washing her hands, she glimpsed her reflection. She looked pale and tired, though the Ivanov necklace sparkled with a life of its own. She wondered how something so beautiful and extraordinary could be the root of so much evil and greed.
Somebody tested the doorknob, pulling her out of her idle musings. She realized she’d taken at least five minutes instead of the two she’d promised Josh, and hat he was probably growing frantic with worry.
“I’ll be just a second,” she called to the person on the other side of the door as she tucked back a stray strand of hair that had escaped her chignon. She stifled a yawn and straightened her dress, thinking she and Josh ought to call it a night, since Carranza didn’t seem inclined to make a move for the necklace that evening.
With that thought on her weary mind, she exited the est room and collided with a solid wall of muscle that caused her to take a step back to steady herself. Startled, he glanced up, expecting Josh, but found herself starning at a middle-aged man with a deep, two-inch scar long his cheek. He was dressed in the requisite black, is long ebony hair pulled back and secured at the back of his neck with a thin leather strap.
“I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly realizing how quiet he hallway was, and that they were alone, just the two of them. “I should have been paying better attention to vhere I was going.” She attempted to step around him.
He blocked her path, large and immobile. Forebodng snaked along the surface of her skin and kicked up he adrenaline in her system. He smiled, the gesture as dark and evil as his black eyes. Full-fledged terror gripped her. Every instinct she possessed screamed at her to bolt, but he anticipated her intent.
He grasped her arm so brutally, she sucked in a sharp breath, cutting off the protest forming on her lips. Before she could recover from that painful assault, he forcefully guided her down the hallway, away from the ballroom.
“Make a sound and you’re dead,” he informed her his tone as feral as his threatening words.
SITTING AT their dinner table while he waited for Paige to return from the ladies’ room, Josh casually glanced a his watch for the seventh time in as many minutes.
He had a clear view of the corridor that led to the res room, and no one had entered or exited from that direction since Paige. Tension tightened the cords in his neck and bunched the muscles along his shoulders. Where another minute crept by with no sign of Paige, he grew even more restless, his eyes shifting from the hallway to Carranza and back again, his mind flipping through a multitude of scenarios-none of which were pleasant.
A young man Josh had seen with Carranza throughout the night approached Victor, and Josh watched as they exchanged words. Carranza’s expression took on a cold, calculating presence, and he nodded to his messenger. Excusing himself from the group he’d been visiting with, Carranza then exited the ballroom through the main entrance.
The fact that Carranza had departed in the opposite direction to where Paige had gone did little to reassure Josh. His gut twisted with an awful premonition. A discreet but urgent nod from the bartender confirmed his suspicions.
Something had happened to Paige, and she was in trouble.
Forcing a calm he was hard-pressed to maintain, Jost headed toward the brass-and-mahogany bar. He waited anxiously for the couple in front of him to order and receive their drinks, then leave to mingle. Once he was alone with the bartender, Josh stepped closer to the brass railing, careful not to make eye contact with the undercover officer on the opposite side of the bar. The other man kept busy as well, clearing the empty glasses a waiter had delivered.
“I’ll take a club soda,” Josh said, aware that Bridget was keeping an eye on him from across the room.
The bartender set a glass with ice on the pour pad and used a spigot to fill it with the carbonated liquid. “Study. West wing. First level.”
The officer’s words were low and clipped, but Josh latched on to each one, knowing that somehow, between the network of other undercover officers planted around the estate, and any information or clues Paige might have been able to utter while being abducted, they’d managed to determine her location.
This was it, he realized. The moment they’d planned for.
Josh didn’t know the layout of the mansion, could only go by the bartender’s brief, vague directions. He had to get to the first landing, but how? Bridget had moved to talk to a small gathering of people near the entrance of the ballroom and would no doubt waylay him should he attempt to leave. A glance toward the corridor leading to the rest room nixed the idea of finding the same back stairway Paige had taken with her own personal guide. Two burly men dressed in black stood near that hallway like obedient rottweilers.
Feeling trapped, frustrated, and trying not to think about the fear Paige was experiencing, Josh searched for an alternate escape, and found only one. Taking his drink, he moved around the room, keeping an eye on Bridget. When a guest temporarily diverted her attention, he slipped out onto the balcony, startling the two women who stood outside, taking in the cool evening air.
So much for disappearing unnoticed. Knowing his choices were limited, Josh nodded amicably at the pair, set his drink down on a glass-topped table, and climbed over the wrought-iron railing. One of the women gasped, while the other stared at him, both shocked at his behavior.
He grinned and winked, striving for a charm he was far from feeling. “If anybody should ask, you didn’t see me,” he said, hoping to buy himself time with their cooperation. Sliding down the railing, he gripped the ledge of the balcony, straightened hi
s body, then dropped to the ground nearly ten feet below. Pain shot up his legs, but he gave it little thought-he hadn’t broken any bones and that was all he cared about.
Drawing his weapon and crouching low, he made his way to the back entrance of the manor and slipped inside. All was quiet; Carranza’s staff was upstairs, attending the party. Heading toward the west wing, he negotiated what seemed like a maze of hallways. He checked every room he passed, murmuring his location as he moved along so he’d have backup when he needed it. Time seemed to drag as he stealthily searched the lower level of the mansion, listening for sounds and voices behind closed doors. Sweat beaded his brow and his heart pumped frantically in his chest when each room turned up dark and empty.
Where in the hell was she?
WHERE IN THE HELL was he?
Paige swallowed the panic rising in her throat, desperate not to succumb to the blinding terror hovering just below the facade of calm she’d managed to maintain in Carranza’s and his thug’s presence.
With a firm push between her shoulder blades, the thug nudged her deeper into the study, toward the large marble-topped desk Carranza stood behind. The room smelled of leather, fine tobacco and money. The combination of odors made Paige’s stomach clench; the insidious glimmer in Carranza’s gaze made her entire body tremble.
She lifted her chin, refusing to cower. “I don’t appreciate being manhandled by the hired help.”
Carranza appeared amused. “If you hadn’t been so difficult about parting with the necklace, none of this would have been necessary.” Hands clasped behind his back, he circled the desk and slowly approached her. “I would have been happy to compensate you a few thousand dollars for the necklace, and we could have parted without any complications. Unfortunately, you’ve forced me to take a more drastic approach.”
She flinched when he reached out to unclasp the necklace, shuddered in revulsion when his fingers brushed along her neck. She thought about using the gun strapped to her thigh, but with Carranza in front of her and the thug behind her, she knew she was outnumbered and outmuscled.
So, she endured Carranza’s touch, grateful when he finally pulled his hands away from her body. His expression turned euphoric as he gazed at the diamonds and emeralds in his hand, his eyes taking on a glimmer of greedy excitement. Even his breathing changed as he stroked the glittering jewels, growing deep, eager, almost aroused.
She watched him walk back behind his desk, lift a painting from the wall, and open the safe behind it. Lifting a black velvet-lined tray from the vault, he placed it on his desk. Rubies, sapphires, diamonds and an assortment of other jewels sparkled in the light-a heal of treasures Paige suspected had been pilfered, just as the Ivanov necklace had been.
“Ahh, now my collection is complete,” he murmured ecstatically, more to himself than anybody else in the room.
She broke out in a cold sweat, shivering despite the warmth of the room. Where was Josh? she wondered desperately. She’d dropped as many clues as to her whereabouts as she possibly could without being obvious. Had something gone wrong?
Carranza glanced up at her, regret clouding the exuberant light in his eyes. “I really do apologize that things have to end this way, Mrs. Montgomery. But there’s something about you I don’t trust, just like that husband of yours.”
The reference to Anthony and his deception that had resulted in this entire mess pushed Paige to the brink of hysteria. Carranza wasn’t a stupid man-had he figured out that he’d been set up?
His gaze transferred to the thug behind her. “Get rid of her and Bennett,” he ordered ruthlessly. “And make it look like an accident.”
Surely her wireless microphone had transmitted that she thought deliriously. She prayed help came, and soon, before there was no one left to save!
The man behind her grabbed her upper arm, and she struggled to free herself of his punishing grip. With little effort, he twisted her arm behind her back, and she cried out as white-hot pain electrified the nerve endings along her arm and shoulders, momentarily paralyzing her. She arched to accommodate the pressure, but he seemed to take great pleasure in tormenting her. With the threat of her limb snapping, she was forced to comply when he shoved her forward, toward the study’s entrance.
The man opened the door, only to be greeted by Josh, who stood two feet away with his revolver aimed at the thug’s head.
Worry and relief flashed across Josh’s features, then were replaced by grim determination. “Let her go,” he ordered, his tone low and fierce.
Ignoring his command, the man tightened his hold md slowly backed into the study, keeping Paige positioned in front of him as a shield. Josh moved forward, following him, the barrel of his gun sighted and steady.
“How convenient of you to join us,” Carranza said insolently, capturing Josh’s attention and forcing him to choose between the lesser of two evils.
His gun automatically swung toward Carranza, who stood behind his desk, unflinching, and without a weapon to defend himself. “The party’s over, Carranza,” Josh said, positioning himself with his back to the wall. “Tell your man to let her go.”
Carranza lifted a brow and smiled. “I don’t think so.”
In that instant, the thug drew a pistol from his waistband, banded an arm around Paige’s waist and pointed the barrel at her temple.
A fearful whimper escaped her dry throat.
Josh whirled and trained his gun on the thug, his expression furious, though Paige could detect his frustration, too. The man behind her laughed menacingly, knowing full well he had Josh in a stalemate. Josh knew it, too.
Very calmly, Carranza said, “I suggest you put the gun down, or watch your lover die.”
“Josh, no,” she countered in a shaky whisper. If he surrendered his weapon, he would die, she knew. They were going to die regardless, according to Carranza’ plan.
He wavered, his jaw clenching. She suspected he was stalling for time, praying as she was for their backup to arrive.
“Do it now,” Carranza ordered impatiently.
Reluctantly, Josh slowly lowered his gun to the floor. Tears burned the back of Paige’s eyes when she realized that he was sacrificing his own life for hers.
If she didn’t do something, and fast, once he let go to his weapon, they were both going to end up dead. Hating what she was about to do, but knowing her option were limited, she deliberately stumbled to the side catching the thug behind her off guard. He swore and fought to support both of them so they didn’t completely lose their balance. Taking advantage of the distraction, she reached inside the slit in her dress grabbed the derringer from its holster and planted the barrel against the thug’s belly. Squeezing her eyes shut she pulled the trigger, moaning as the room exploded with sound. The man behind her automatically released her, sucking in a wheezing breath as he crumpled to the floor. The gun in his hand skittered across the carpet out of reach.
Josh recovered his gun, but Carranza had retrieved his own weapon from his desk drawer, and their barrels sighted each other at the exact same moment. Nei ther hesitated to squeeze the trigger.
Two gunshots reverberated in the study, the blast echoing like cannons. In horrible slow motion, Paige watched as Josh stumbled back, his eyes wide as has clutched his chest, a harsh moan of pain escaping him before he finally collapsed to the floor.
“Nooooo!” she screamed, dropping her own weapon to rush to his side as all hell seemed to break loose around her. Armed men flooded the room, barking orders and swarming the area. They could have been Carranza’s cohorts for all she cared-her only concern was with Josh and his injury.
On her hands and knees on the carpet, she pushed back his tuxedo jacket, moaning pitifully when she saw the dark, spreading stain of blood on his white shirt. His eyes were closed, his body limp, his expression lax-she feared the absolute worst.
She touched his cheek, willing him to live. “Damn you, Josh, don’t you dare leave me,” she said in a choked whisper as hot tears streamed down her face
. “After everything we’ve been through, I won’t let you leave me!”
12
HE WAS HAVING the most wonderful dream. He was being cared for by an angel with a sweet, husky voice, and soft, cool hands that caressed his brow, making him momentarily forget the searing heat in his shoulder. Gentle lips brushed his cheek. That same tempting voice whispered encouraging words in his ear.
I love you, Josh Marchiano.
Ahh, maybe he was in Heaven. Yeah, that had to be it.
He tried to move toward that cajoling voice, that delectable feminine scent that overrode more antiseptic smells, and moaned as a shaft of pain ripped along his chest and arm. He wouldn’t have thought he’d feel such burning discomfort in Heaven. Soothing fingers fluttered along his good shoulder-an angel, maybe?-distracting him from the gnawing ache on his left side.
“Come on, Marchiano, I expect you to pull through this like the tough guy you are.”
No, definitely not an angel, unless they were extremely bossy.
He forced his eyes to open, his gaze falling on the woman sitting next to him on the edge of the narrow hospital bed.
Paige.
He’d thought he’d never see her again. When he’d felt Carranza’s bullet rip through his flesh, before darkness had obliterated his mind, he’d had the fleeting thought that he’d failed her, just as Anthony had. That Carranza or one of his men would kill her, and he’d been the one to put her in such a dangerous situation. And he’d hated himself for that. Hated that he’d risked her life, and ultimately proved that he was no better than her husband had been.
But she was very much alive, and he was grateful enough for that huge blessing to know that he had to let her go, set her free.
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