An Unforgettable Lady
Page 31
By this time, Smith was halfway down the building. He hung up and dialed the lieutenant's cell phone.
As soon as Marks answered, Smith said, "How many boys do you have at the Foundation?"
"None. We took them off the detail at her request. She said she was going to use her own men tonight and considering we have—”
"Get some cops over there now. Whoever you have in custody isn't the guy killing those women."
Smith broke out of the hotel through a side door and began running flat out. He was only three blocks from the Hall Building, but it felt like miles.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"It's the goddamn caterer. Fredrique."
"The caterer?"
"He's already tried to get into Grace's apartment tonight. Her doorman called me. I don't have time to give details. You've got to trust me on this."
"Do you know what he looks like?"
Smith gave a description of Fredrique. "And he's in chef's whites."
Marks was already barking orders as he was hanging up.
When Smith flew into the lobby of the Hall Building, a security guy he recognized looked up from the front desk with a smile. "Hey there—"
"Where is she?"
"The countess? I think she left already. To go home."
* * *
Grace retreated until she felt the chair hit the back of her legs. "What are you doing here?" Fredrique smiled. "I couldn't miss the season's biggest event. The canapés were nice, though I wouldn't have done something so common, of course. Your guests could have been much more impressed. But then you didn't use me."
He came toward her, his squat body moving in a jerky way from anger.
"You've ruined me. All of you," he said, his voice intensifying, "have ruined me. You froze me out. I've lost everything. You think you can just take someone's life and crush it because you're rich and you're powerful. People are toys to you. Toys."
Grace was measuring the distance to the door when she caught sight of the knife in his hand. The blade reflected light with a flash and made her physically ill.
Fredrique's rantings got shrill. "When I was new and fresh, you needed me for your parties to make them good. You demanded me. You wanted me. And then someone else came to town and none of you knew my name. It was like I didn't exist!"
Grace glanced across the desk, searching for something to defend herself with as he got closer. She wished like hell she'd left her father's sturdy crystal bowl of peppermints out. It would have made a fine weapon.
* * *
Smith was almost at the revolving doors which led to the street when another security guy called out. "Hey! You looking for the countess? She just went upstairs to get her purse. I ordered a car for the two of us."
Smith cursed as he wheeled around and rushed for the elevators. "The police are on the way—get them to her office as soon as they arrive."
The ride to the top floor was an eternity. He was thinking that he'd give up anything he had to have her safe. Unharmed. Alive.
And that included Black Watch, his lifestyle, the whole thing.
She'd been right. He was protecting himself because loving her was the single most threatening thing he could think of. But the alternative was worse. He'd much rather be with her than without, even if the, price he paid was the bogus sense of security he'd had when he was by himself.
All he wanted was her. All he needed was her.
She'd told him she wouldn't wait. Well, he wasn't going to ask her to. He was going to stay by her side.
Oh, God. Please let her be safe.
When he leapt out of the elevator, and saw the light in her office glowing under the doors, he felt a painful surge of hope as he ran silently down the hall. She'd probably gone up to change clothes. She was probably stepping out of her high heels and sighing as her bare feet hit the carpet at this very moment. She was probably fine.
Please let her be fine.
He was about to push open the double doors when he heard a man's voice. The threat behind the words was obvious, even through the wood, and Smith went from anxious to deadly.
Silently, he pushed one side open a crack. He saw the man, the knife and the stark fear on Grace's face.
That was all Smith needed to know.
With a massive lunge, he burst through the door. There was blood lust and nothing else running through his veins as he tackled Fredrique, taking him down hard onto the floor. Smith was heavier and had the element of surprise working for him, but with all his rage, he didn't need the advantage.
The man began to fight but it was amateur stuff. Smith grabbed the knife and quickly took control. In a matter of moments, he had Fredrique dazed and flat on his back.
But Smith didn't stop there. Before he was fully aware of what he was doing, he had one hand around the man's throat and the other tight on the grip of the knife. For what the murderer had almost done to Grace, he was prepared to eviscerate him on the spot.
Smith raised his arm high over his head and angled the blade so it would hit Fredrique's chest square in the center. He felt an animal growl come out of him as he started to move.
"John! No!"
Smith froze as he heard Grace's voice. He shook his head to clear it and looked at her. Her face was an unnatural gray color and her hands were reaching out to him.
"Put the knife down," she told him gently.
He became aware of his pounding heart, the sound of the breath coming out of his mouth, the feel of the weapon in his hand. He looked back down, into Fredrique's eyes. The lids were peeled back with terror, the pupils dilated by fear.
Smith looked up again at Grace.
“Are you hurt?" he asked her hoarsely.
"No, I'm okay."
He returned his attention to the killer. The guy was beginning to choke and Smith pictured Grace's life gradually leaving her body. He tightened his grip and raised the knife higher, prepared to show Fredrique everything his victims had felt.
"John, put that down! Please, don't kill him."
The urgency of her voice snapped him back to reality. He knew damn well he was a hairbreadth away from murder so he threw the knife across the room, flipped Fredrique over, and roughly wrenched the man's hands behind his back.
Smith looked over at Grace. "Are you sure you're okay?"
She gave him a shaky smile. "Yes."
When Fredrique started to protest, Smith bared his teeth and got down real close to the man's ear.
"You better shut the fuck up before I cut your tongue out."
Fredrique didn't say much after that.
"Grace, call your security guys. Marks's men should be arriving soon, but let's get some handcuffs up here."
As she nodded and went over to the phone, all he wanted to do was hold her, but there was no way he was letting the man under him get loose.
Within minutes, two uniformed security officers came into the room. Smith got off Fredrique after they'd handcuffed him and immediately went to Grace. He curled himself around her, surrounding her with his body, and when her arms came around him, he felt a relief that made him light-headed. Breathing in her scent, feeling her living warmth against him, he thought it was nothing short of a miracle.
* * *
With the arrival of Lieutenant Marks and his men, Grace's office turned into a bull pen of cops. Fredrique was carted off, looking dazed and stammering about there having been some kind of mistake.
"Could you give us a sec, fellas," Smith said over Grace's head to the police and security officers milling around. The men in blue were waiting to take her statement, but he needed to be alone with her.
When they were by themselves, he was surprised to feel her stiffen against him.
"So you saved me, after all," she murmured, pulling away. "Burst through the door... and saved me. Just like a bodyguard should."
She went over to the windows, moving slowly as if she didn't trust her legs. The hand she raised to her neck was trembling and she look
ed at her fingers curiously, as if she was only just now realizing how badly she was shaking.
Smith frowned, thinking about the recovery she had in front of her. She wasn't physically injured, but she was going to be rattling around in her own skin for a while. He'd seen it before. Had been through it himself.
"Grace, you're going to need help getting over this. I can recommend someone you can talk to."
"I'll be fine. Although it's kind of you to worry." She stood rigidly while looking out at the twinkling city. "Would you mind calling the police back in? I'm feeling rather tired and would like to go home."
The words were formal, her voice a false calm that told him she was two inches from the cliff.
"Grace—"
"And by all means, you should go now. You've more than served your purpose. You've saved me."
There was a little hiccup after that last word.
"I'm not going anywhere."
Her hand went to the base of her throat. " There's no reason for you to stay."
"What I'm trying to say is—"
"Or are you going to have me arrested for what I did to Tiny?"
Smith frowned. "We'll talk about that later."
"There is no later for us."
“Yes, there is." He went over to her and turned her around. "I don't know how it's going to work but I can't leave you. Walking away from you this afternoon felt wrong, like I was leaving a part of me behind. I don't want to be without you. I don't know if I can ... live without you."
Her eyes were wary. "What about Black Watch? What about your past? "
"Like you said, we'll work it out together."
"Oh, really?" She stepped out of his reach. "You were very worried about it before, that's changed?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. Everything."
"Now there's an answer." She smiled sadly. "Actually, that's just what I would have expected you to say."
He frowned. "Grace, I—"
Her voice was tired as she cut him off. "I'm sorry, John. But I don't think there's anything you could say that would convince me that all of the problems you saw between us have disappeared."
"How about this." He waited until she looked up. "I love you."
Her eyebrows rose and her mouth opened slightly.
"I love you. And I don't want to live without you." He paused. "I won't pretend I've handled any of this well. But I promise to improve over time. And I am trainable. That's how I made it through the Army."
He offered her a lopsided smile, hoping like hell she would believe him. Believe in them. Now that he finally saw everything they had together, he prayed that he wasn't too late.
Grace just kept staring at him. As the silence stretched between them, a cold dread formed in the pit of his stomach. She'd told him it would take a hell of a lot to open her heart to him again and he wondered if his love was enough.
He was getting ready to beg when she lurched forward.
With an awkward lunge, she grabbed on to him, almost taking him down on the floor with the force of her body.
She held on to him so hard, he thought he wouldn't be able to breathe and didn't care if he suffocated or not.
When her hold loosened, he bent down and kissed her softly.
"I love you," he whispered, relishing the glow radiating from her face. He ran a finger down her cheek. "And I want you to know that I'm ready to change. It's not going to be easy but—"
"Stop talking and kiss me again," she murmured with a smile.
"You don't have to ask me twice, lady," he said, as he put his lips down on hers.
EPILOGUE
The next morning, Grace smiled as she lay in bed and watched Smith get out of the shower. His big body was hers to have and to hold, she thought. Every last rock-hard inch of it.
And she'd held on pretty hard last night, she remembered with satisfaction.
As he pivoted to dry off his legs, she caught a glimpse of where she'd scratched his back with her nails.
"Look what I did to you," she said with a grimace.
He glanced over his shoulder toward the mirror. When he turned to her, his smile was full of masculine approval.
"I'm wearing your marks with pride and hoping for more tonight."
He wrapped a towel around his tight waist and, when she held her arms out, he joined her. His hair was still damp and he smelled like a clean man.
Her man.
I've chosen well, she thought while staring into his dark blue eyes.
When he chuckled deep in his chest, she raised an eyebrow.
"I'm just thinking of Tiny," he said. "I can't believe you Maced him."
Grace flushed. "I feel really badly about that."
"Don't worry about it. He's tough enough to handle it. I'm laughing because right about now, he's choking back some plastic eggs on a plane headed for the Middle East. He hates eating on planes."
She frowned. "Was that going to be your next job?"
"When John nodded, she felt her nerves stir.
"Do you wish you were going?"
He shook his head.
"I don't. Undoubtedly, I will sometimes but this morning, I want to be here." He dropped in for a kiss.
"I love you, John," she whispered.
He pulled back, a serious look on his face. "I have something I want to do."
"What?"
"I want to take you to dinner."
She smiled. "Dinner?"
He cleared his throat. "I want to show up on your doorstep with flowers and some little trinket from Tiffany's. I want to take you out, hold your hand, pull back the chair for you. Treat you like a lady. Be your man."
Grace laughed softly.
"You've always treated me like a lady. And 1 don't need flowers or dinner or jewelry. I only need you."
He rolled her over on top of him. "Well, you've got me."
She was about to kiss him, when he took her face in his hands.
"Grace, do me a favor." He paused. "I want you to call me Ross."
Her breath caught in her throat as she looked down into his eyes.
"It was the name I was born with. Seems fitting I should use it, now that I'm starting out all over. My last name’s gone forever but at least I can resurrect the first half."
"Ross," she repeated. "I love you, Ross." He brought her lips to his. "Oh, God, say that again."
Scanned by Coral and proofed by mpkbnh.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue