“Can I assist you, sir? Are you looking for something specific, perhaps a gift?”
“My wife is trying something on, but now that you mention it, do you have jewelry?”
She led him to a case where pretty things were hung and displayed. They all sparkled under the lights. If he had time, he’d think about it more, but he needed to get it bought and wrapped fast.
“Is your wife the woman with the red hair?” she asked, checking out the man. He was in a suit and looked powerful. In fact, she’d seen him before, but couldn’t place it.
“Yes, that’s her.”
The woman directed his attention to a specific piece. “This would look lovely in her hair,” she said, pointing to the broach like clip. It had green and blue stones.
Croft considered it.
“The green will stand out in the rich red of her hair.”
“Sold.” He handed her his credit card. “I want to give it to her as a gift, do you wrap?”
She nodded, taking the card and unlocking the case. As she took out the piece, the woman noticed the name. Ahhh, that’s where she recognized him. The man and woman in her shop were on TV yesterday. “We do wrap. I’ll have it done for you in a few minutes. Please follow me.”
He kept looking around and decided that he had a new place to shop for the holidays that were coming in a few weeks. There were quite a few things in the store that would look amazing on Emma, but he needed to get her size.
“Excuse me,” he said, getting her attention. Already the plan was coming to life in his mind.
“Yes, Mr. Croft?”
“When my wife buys her dress, can you get the size? I think I see some things I want to buy as presents but I’m clueless.”
The woman was delighted. Wait until she told everyone who was a patron of her shop. “I can, sir. You don’t have to come back in either.” She pulled out her card with the store number. “Just call and ask for me. I can do all your transactions over the phone.”’
He grinned. “I appreciate it.”
This was exactly the clientele she wanted. If he asked, she’d hand deliver too!
Taking his credit card and wrapped box, he slid them into his pocket. As he sat in the center of the store, he tried to look bored to fool the approaching Emma.
“I’m done, Grey.” She joined him as the woman rang up her purchase. “Bored?”
Leaning in, he whispered in her ear. “No, I find there’s lots of things in here I can imagine my wife wearing.”
His breath on her neck gave her chills. “Well, I think that can be arranged.”
The woman came over with a box. “Here is your card and purchase, Mrs. Croft,” she said, waiting for her signature. “I hope you’ll come back in and see us again.”
Greyson stood and pulled his wife to her feet. “Oh, I’m sure she will,” he laughed, dropping his arm around her shoulder.
She couldn’t help but be excited as she watched them leave. If she could get the Director’s wife to wear her things, she’d be a success with all the other women in town. Maybe vintage Vegas would become the hot new thing once again.
As soon as they hit the door, he knew they weren’t alone. The cameras started flashing, the lights were on, and reporters were asking questions. This must have been what his gut was warning him about earlier.
They all seemed to be focused on Emma as they fired one question after another at her.
“Detective Croft, are you any closer to solving these grisly murders?” shouted one reporter.
The twosome continued through the crowd, towards their vehicle. Neither was answering the questions.
“Detective Croft, you’re out shopping so that must mean you’ve wrapped this up.”
Emma was getting sick. This wasn’t going to play well in the headlines. Even though she was off duty, they were going to have a field day with this.
Greyson’s arm was protectively around his wife’s shoulder. His job now was to try and keep the media dogs from crushing down around them. He was really missing the anonymity of being an agent at that moment. If it was him they were focused on, he wouldn’t mind, but Emma was in their crosshairs.
And that was unacceptable.
“We’ve noticed that your gown for the premier was vintage, and now you’re in a shop that sells all old glamour, are you bringing the old Vegas back, Mrs. Croft?”
What Emma wanted to do was run, but she knew she couldn’t. Stopping, she turned to face the reporters. It might benefit them to play nice.
“As a matter of fact, I am trying to bring old Vegas back. I love it.”
Greyson didn't know what she was doing, but he played along. He trusted his wife’s instincts.
“What’s it like being married to one of the most influential men in Vegas?”
“It’s amazing, and I’m a very lucky woman.”
“What about the killer?”
Emma shook her head as Greyson moved even closer to her. “You know we can’t discuss that. Now, if you don’t mind, we really have an obligation to attend tonight.”
They began walking away. Croft fought his way around the side of the car. “I will be pulling out, and if you’re in my way you’re going to have tread marks,” he warned.
Emma buckled her seatbelt as she smiled pleasantly at the reporters through the window.
Jumping into the confines of the vehicle, he looked over at his wife apologetically. “I’m so sorry, Em.”
“Don’t be. This is part of your job and we need to play the game, Grey. If they want to ask me about my purse and clothes I’m okay with that. I’m the director’s wife too and you’re an enigma to them. It will all die down when the next big thing happens in Vegas. Eventually, we’ll bore the hell out of them.”
He loved that she was being so good about it.
She took his hand. “At least this time I wasn’t covered in blood,” she offered as she tried to look at the bright side of it all.
He started their SUV and pulled away from the curb to take them home. “I hope you’re right, because now, they’re following us. Our sanctuary is about to have media camped out in front of it.
Trying to remain positive, she reassuringly squeezed his hand. Why make the man feel worse?
“Maybe Vegas was a really bad idea,” Croft admitted.
Emma didn't reply. Right then, she wasn’t sure if he was right or wrong.
As of now, it was a toss-up.
~ Chapter Seventeen ~
Monday Evening
After Emma had gone to their room to get ready for dinner at the commissioner’s home, Greyson slipped back down to the security desk. He found two of the security guards he knew personally. Croft wanted to apprise them of the situation waiting outside of the building. He’d chosen this condominium high-rise for a reason- the security, and now he was counting on it.
“Good evening, Mr. Croft. What can I do for you?” asked the older man.
“William, you might get some people in here trying to ask questions, please make sure they get nothing from you. The media is sneaky. The best thing is to say nothing.”
“Are they bothering you, sir?”
He sighed, slightly exasperated. “Yeah, unfortunately.”
“They’ve been in already. They arrived about two minutes after you cleared the elevator. They couldn’t get past the front door without a passcode.”
Thank God for security. It was worth every penny they’d spent on it. This made him so much happier, now all he needed to do was find a way to keep Emma locked up here for the rest of their lives.
Yeah, that would never happen.
“I don’t want them knowing what floor we live on, or anything else that involves my wife.”
The other guard spoke. “We’ll keep them out,” he promised.
“I appreciate that,” he replied, returning to the elevator.
The entire ride up, he was lost in thought. Part of him wanted to cancel the dinner invite and stay in with Emma. They could remain locke
d away from the killer, the media, and the world to have some peace and quiet.
When Croft took the job, he knew it was higher profile, but he didn't know any of this would happen. It was only a matter of time, before the people outside his home began digging into their pasts.
Granted, they both lived honorable existences, him serving his country abroad in the army and at home in the FBI and Emma working for the Philly police and then becoming a detective. Yet there was one single fear that overshadowed it all. The death of her brother just might enter into the spotlight, forcing her to relive everything she once ran from in her life. What if it rattled her so much, she bolted on him too?
When they took their wedding vows, he promised to keep her safe and protect her. Now, he wasn’t sure he could do that. Wandering into their bedroom, he found their bathroom door closed, and he was sure Emma was doing her hair.
“Honey, we need to leave soon,” he said, leaning against the door.
She cracked it open and carefully peeked out at him. “I’m just about ready. Five minutes tops.”
He nodded and headed for the closet himself. Slipping out of his suit, he picked his clothing for the night. He was going simple with a pair of black pants and white button down shirt. He rolled the sleeves up and left it open at his throat. Getting his shoes on, he was ready to go.
As he sat on the side of their bed, he heard the door open to the bathroom. Glancing up, he found his wife ready too.
He grinned wickedly.
“Well?” she asked, walking towards him in her new dress.
Greyson’s heart skipped in his chest. Emma had chosen a dark blue dress that cinched in at her waist and flared out to her knees, much like the dresses in the nineteen fifties. Across the entire dress were little white polka dots, making it cheery and very vintage to the era. Her red hair hung loose and was styled with big flouncy curls. Around her throat was his necklace and it reminded him just how fortunate he was in life.
“Honey, you look amazing!” he declared, crossing towards her. “I love the dress. It’s an excellent choice for dinner tonight,” he stated as he pulled her into his arms to kiss her.
When she was free from his lips, she ran her fingers through his hair, right where the gray flecks had begun to pop out. “You look handsome yourself.”
“Get your shoes on,” he murmured as she rubbed against him, enticingly. It wouldn’t take much to blow off dinner and stay home naked with his wife. He was on the verge of doing exactly that.
She grinned as she felt his body come to life. Knowing she had that power over him made her crazy. “Yes, Grey,” she purred into his ear as she turned and heading for their closet.
When she was gone, he pulled the present out of the nightstand. “I have a surprise for you,” he called.
Emma came out in a pair of dark blue pumps that strapped around her ankles and had her toes peeking out. Something about them made his heart race.
“What?” she asked, sliding back up against him. The plan tonight was to stay in contact with her husband as much as possible to drive him crazy.
He pulled the wrapped box from behind his back. “I saw this and thought of you.”
Emma held it in her hand and smiled up at him. It was wrapped in the familiar paper of the shop they’d just visited. With a tug on the bow, it easily opened. Emma simply stared at the piece. “It’s beautiful, Grey,” she admitted, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“I love you, honey.”
She kissed him. “I love you more.”
He took the box from her hand and removed the piece. He wanted to see it in her hair. As he clipped it into the glossy red strands, the woman had indeed been right.
It was perfect, just like his wife.
Leading her to the closet, he showed her in their mirror. Greyson wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned his chin on her shoulder as she stared at the clip decorating her hair.
“Excellent choice, Mr. Croft,” she stated. “I really love it.” When she turned in his arms, she pulled his mouth to hers for a kiss. Passion roared to life as she dove in wildly.
He wasn’t braced for the storm, and he stumbled back against the wall. “Emma,” he muttered as she only broke the kiss to leave more across his cheeks and lips. His whole body went haywire as she continued her assault.
There was nothing sexier than a man who could give his woman the perfect gift, and the pretty hair broach made her body heat up. It was very much something she’d buy for herself, and he’d gotten it right. Now, Emma wanted nothing more than to reciprocate.
God, she loved him.
“You need to stop,” he whispered as his own hands began wandering. He’d managed to find his way up under her dress to her behind. He could feel the miniscule scrap of lace and his mind went off on its own little voyage. What wouldn’t he give for twenty more minutes alone? “Honey, we have to go, please stop,” he begged, knowing he wasn’t strong enough to do it himself.
Emma grinned wickedly at him. “Yes, Grey,” she replied as she freed herself from his arms and headed to the mirror to fix herself. “I’m set.”
It boggled his mind how she could go from stirred up to ready to leave in under ten seconds, especially while his body was all on fire. Straightening his own shirt, he held out his hand.
“We’re taking my car,” he stated.
“Wow, we never do that. What gives?” she asked grinning at him as he ran his hand through his hair, trying to regain his composure. It stood up in sexy spikes and only made her want to mess it up more in bed.
“We have media out there. My windows are tinted, and they can’t get a picture.”
She began laughing. “You want to outrun them in the streets in Vegas. Who are you kidding?”
Croft started laughing, since she’d seen right through his entire ploy. “Yeah, I do.”
She grabbed her phone and the bottles of wine and followed him to the door. “I say go for it,” she giggled as he led her to the elevator.
“I plan on it.”
Croft had few loves in his life. First, there was Emma, and behind her was his family and then… his car. It was a man thing, he guessed. There was something sexy about his sleek black vehicle. Growing up as a kid, his first car was a vintage Challenger. His grandfather and he rebuilt one together. It was fast, it was badass, and it got the girls. Now, he felt the same way about his new Challenger. It screamed around corners, made lots of noise when he revved it, and his woman looked amazing sitting beside him in it.
It was his dream car, and he treated it like a child. It never went out in the rain, he didn't let strangers borrow it, and he sometimes wanted to make his passengers take their shoes off before getting in it. It was crazy, but Croft couldn’t help it.
When he started it up, it purred to life, and he actually grinned like a kid.
Emma began laughing beside him. “Do you want me to give you and your girlfriend some time alone?” she teased.
Croft winked at her. “It’s a he, thank you very much. We’ll bond later. We have an agreement. When there’s a hot woman in the car, he does his thing and I do mine.”
Reaching over, she turned his face towards hers. “I better be the only person you have in this car, or I’m taking him to the impound lot. It’s where divorced men and their cars go when they can’t afford the alimony.”
Croft covered the air vents with his hands. “Honey, not in front of the child. You’ll upset him.”
She snorted. “Okay Grey, take your wife to dinner.”
He backed out of the spot gently, shifting it into gear. It had been a while since he’d driven his car. Now, he was looking forward to it. He slowly maneuvered from the garage, and once he cleared the final exit, he floored it and took to the streets like a madman.
Emma laughed as the media looked terrified when the sleek black car raced towards them. As he hit the first corner, they scattered for their lives. Her husband’s laughter filled the vehicle as she shot down the block and just misse
d the red light.
He was pleased at the knowledge that he had out maneuvered the reporters. “Now, we can enjoy our evening.”
“That was very sexy, Greyson. It makes me want to climb all over you in the car.”
Croft wiggled his eyebrows. “Possibly after dinner?”
“Maybe.”
Dinner with the Bookers was interesting. To say Emma didn't like Trudy was an understatement. When she’d first met her at the premier, she thought the woman was ignorant and about as deep as a rain puddle.
Now, she had her proof. Emma wouldn’t be spending any time with her if her life depended on it. From the minute she arrived, the woman was nitpicking her apart--from her job, to her choice in clothing, and to her not eating meat.
She had to give her husband credit, he was desperately trying to play buffer and protect her. When Trudy Booker took one more shot at her attire at the end of dinner, Emma had finally reached her breaking point.
“I stopped in that shop you mentioned, Emma,” she stated, placing her napkin in her lap and sipping her wine. “I really didn't find anything that suited me. I have to say, I like today’s fashion trends and not that vintage look you favor.”
Croft tensed beside her and found himself getting angry. He loved his wife’s style of dress. It was very much them as a couple. As he was about to reply, his wife finally spoke up.
“Really? I’m not surprised.” She too began sipping her wine. “I don’t find that odd. I mean, you got to enjoy it the first time around, but it’s all new to me. I wasn’t born for quite a few more decades after it. You should have kept your things from the fifties. I’m bringing it back in style.”
The woman got the insult, her lips sealed in a thin line as she stood to clear the table.
Greyson leaned over and kissed his wife, trying not to laugh at the look on Trudy’s face. He had to admit, she deserved it. The woman poked his kitten a few too many times, and the claws came out swinging.
“Grey, let’s have the wives clean up, and you and I can go talk some business and man stuff.”
Vegas is Dying (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 2) Page 43
