by Cindi Myers
The woman’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. “We have some very nice retro designer pieces in larger sizes,” she said.
Laura winced. Rub it in, you scrawny size zero. She followed the clerk to a rack near the back of the store. She avoided buying a swimsuit any more often than absolutely necessary, so her knowledge of current styles was limited. “Which do you think would look best on me?” she asked.
The sales clerk tilted her head, considering. Come on, I haven’t got all day here, Laura thought.
“This is our Marilyn number.” The clerk held up a bright red suit with a plunging neckline and ruching on the sides.
“I’ll take it.” She grabbed the suit.
“Don’t you want to try it on?”
“No. I’m sure it’s perfect.” She headed for the front of the store and the clerk hurried after her.
“You’ll need a cover up,” the clerk said.
“Great. Pick one for me. I’m kind of in a hurry.”
“And a sarong.”
“Great. Throw that in too. I really am in a rush.” She handed the woman her card. “Is there someplace I can change?” She signed the charge slip. The total made her blanch, but she couldn’t be concerned about price right now. Not when a man’s life was at stake.
“You could use our dressing room.” She indicated a door.
Laura scooped up her purchases and raced into the dressing room, where she began frantically tearing off her clothes. She tugged on the red swimsuit and yanked off the tag. She stuffed everything else into the shopping bag and sprinted for the elevator.
She pressed up and waited, heart pounding. What was taking the elevator so long? And what was happening to David while she was stuck down here?
She dashed for the stairway and pounded up four flights of stairs, as fast as she could go. She raced down the hallway and knocked on the door to David’s room. She had to do this, had to channel every drama queen she’d ever met. “David, darling. Let me in. I forgot my key.”
David, gray-faced, opened the door. She threw her arms around him. “Sorry I took so long,” she said. “Do you like my new suit?
He stared at her. “It…it’s very nice.”
Over his shoulder, Laura caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She did look nice, cheeks flushed, hair ruffled. The new suit really showed off her curves. Maybe those designers were on to something…
She also caught sight of Charlie’s scowling face. His menacing expression made her heart pound, but she reminded herself this was no time to turn chicken. She wasn’t really being herself right now—she was that other, more exciting woman who had taken over her body last night. She sucked in a deep breath. “Who are these men, David?” she asked.
“Um, they’re business associates…”
“Couldn’t you forget about business for even one day?” She balled her hands into fists, her face contorted with anger. What would Rachel do? Her little sister certainly wouldn’t put up with treatment like this. “We’re on our honeymoon!” she wailed. “It’s bad enough the airline lost my luggage and we couldn’t get Elvis to marry us and had to settle for Liberace, but I won’t have you conducting business on our honeymoon.”
David stared, his expression a mixture of awe and fear. “I didn’t mean—” he began.
“You never mean, but you still do!” She stamped her foot and whirled to face Victor and Charlie. ”Get out of here.” She made a shooing motion toward the door. “This is my honeymoon, and I didn’t invite you!”
She jerked open the door and pointed dramatically into the hall. Victor and Charlie filed past her, and she slammed the door behind them. She held her breath, heart pounding in her ears, until she heard footsteps moving down the hall. She turned to David, the thin grip she’d had on her emotions broke, and she burst into tears.
“Hey, now. It’s okay.” He rushed to gather her into his arms and guide her to the bed. He handed her a tissue.
“I…I’ve never b…been so terrified in my life!” She sniffed, then blew her nose.
“You were brilliant,” he said.
She let him pull her close, until her head rested on his shoulder. He felt so good—solid and strong.
“Why did you come back?” He spoke softly, almost whispering.
“I saw them get off the elevator, and I knew they were headed back here. I was terrified they’d kill you before I could get back upstairs.”
“Why the swimsuit?” He gave her a quick once-over and grinned. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“One of them made a comment about my being in the same clothes I wore last night, so I wanted to distract them. I didn’t think of the excuse about the airline losing my luggage until I was back in the room.”
“Quick thinking,” he said. “And I do like the suit.”
Her cheeks warmed, but she didn’t respond to the compliment. “What do we do now?” she asked.
“I’ll switch hotels after you leave,” he said.
“I’m not leaving. Not until you’re safe.” She wasn’t sure when she’d made this decision—probably somewhere between seeing his ashen face at the door and his gathering her into his arms when she began to cry. “When we’re back in Chicago we’ll straighten all this out.”
“I can’t go back to Chicago,” he said. “Not yet. Not without Tommy.”
“Who’s Tommy?”
“Tommy is Zacolli’s son. He’s also the chief witness in the case against his dad. Once he testifies, we’ll have all we need to shut down the whole Zacolli operation.”
“And Tommy is in Las Vegas?”
“He got here two days ago—the day before I arrived. He was all ready to turn himself over to our custody when his father summoned him out here. I think the old man was getting suspicious. Tommy could be in danger if I don’t bring him in soon.”
“So you’re going to do what—kidnap the guy?”
“I’m going to convince him to fly back to Chicago with me and quit wasting our time.” He took her hand in his and squeezed it, then looked into her eyes. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I can’t let you get in any deeper. It’s too dangerous.”
Dangerous, yes. But she was already involved. She couldn’t just walk away and leave him alone. And she wasn’t ready yet to turn her back on the exhilarating curve life had thrown her. What would be the harm of playing along with this for another day or two, especially if she really could help him? And she wouldn’t only be helping him, she’d be helping her country. How could she say no to that? “They already know who I am—and they think I’m your wife. So the way I see it, I’m safer with you than I would be apart from you.”
He frowned. “I’m not saying you don’t have a point, but this isn’t like some television show or movie. This is serious business. If you’re going to stay with me, you’ll have to do exactly what I tell you. Your life could depend on it.”
He’s trying to scare me, she thought. Part of her was afraid. But she was also excited and thrilled to be caught up in something so unlike her dull, everyday life. “I’ll help you any way I can,” she said. “Just tell me what you want.”
“Victor and Charlie think we’re newlyweds,” he said. “So we should act like people on a Vegas honeymoon.”
That should be easy enough. “Let’s go swimming,” she said. “If the two stooges are watching you, we should act normal.”
“I don’t have swim trunks,” he said.
“That’s okay. I know a boutique that sells them.”
Chapter Three
David let Laura lead him to a boutique off of the hotel lobby. She was such a confusing mixture of practicality and passion. He couldn’t fault her reasoning for staying, even if he didn’t understand her willingness to cast her lot with him. Wouldn’t a sensible woman run the other direction from mob thugs with guns?
Maybe he should have done more to ensure her safety. He could have bought her a plane ticket and insisted on getting her out of town right away. N
ow it looked like they would be stuck together a while longer, even though the last thing he needed in his life was a woman slowing him down.
He purchased trunks and a Hawaiian shirt, then they headed to the pool on the roof of the hotel. As they stepped onto the pool deck, he spotted Charlie. In an effort to look less conspicuous, the enforcer had removed his suit jacket and tie and rolled up his shirt sleeves, but he still presented an obvious, hulking presence at one end of the pool.
“I see your thug got here ahead of us,” Laura said as she led the way to a pair of lounge chairs as far from Charlie as possible.
“He probably saw us buying the swimwear and put two-and-two together. And he’s not my thug. He’s Zacolli’s thug.”
“Let’s go for a swim. We can talk in the water without worrying about him overhearing us.” She slipped out of her cover-up and for a moment he forgot about Charlie and Zacolli and Tommy and pretty much anything that didn’t have to do with her creamy skin and lush curves. Sun glinted off her rich brown hair, which fell straight to her shoulders, and she walked with a distracting sway of her hips. She looked soft and warm and too inviting for a man who’d stayed alive as long as he had by refusing to get attached to anything or anyone.
She moved past him to the pool ladder and lowered herself into the water. He left his towel and the bag with his clothing—gun hidden away inside—at the end of a lounge chair and followed her into the pool. It was either that or stand there with an obvious pole tenting his swim trunks.
Once in the water, he glanced toward Charlie. The man was leaning forward, staring at them. Or was he ogling Laura? David pulled her close.
She let out a nervous giggle. “What are you doing?”
“Charlie is watching, so I’m acting like a newlywed.” He spoke softly, whispering in her ear, breathing in her soft scent. “We really need to find a way to get you safely out of here.” Despite the obvious advantages of keeping this stunning creature with him, experience told him he had to get her out of Vegas before one of the goons decided to get to him through her. That was the way these people worked; they zeroed in on weaknesses. One more reason he’d spent years separating himself from others—people made you vulnerable.
“I don’t have to be back to work until Monday,” she said. She shifted her weight, brushing against him in a way that made it difficult to think.
Focus, he reminded himself. “What kind of work do you do?”
“I teach the toddler class at a preschool.”
A preschool teacher. Could he possibly have picked a woman more unsuited for the lying, hiding, and violence his job required? He wasn’t some desk jockey in a suit who dealt with blue collar crime and bureaucracy. He’d made his reputation hunting killers. Better she not know the grisly details, though. Keep everything light. “So you like kids?”
“I do.” Her expression grew a little wistful, and his sinking feeling intensified. Of course she liked children. She was clearly a nurturing person.
“I probably should have asked this before,” he said. “But are you married? I mean, to someone else? Or—attached?”
She laughed, a sound that made him harder. “You definitely should have asked that before, but the answer is no. No marriage and no boyfriend—or anything even resembling a relationship.”
“I’m surprised,” he said.
“Right.” She rolled her eyes.
“No, seriously. You’re pretty and sweet and funny and you like kids—those seem like good qualities for a wife.” Qualities he’d have wanted, if he’d been crazy enough to consider marriage.
“Guess I haven’t found the right guy yet.” Her tone was light, but he read the sadness in her eyes. Someone had hurt Laura. He wanted to find the guy and pound him.
“What about you?” she asked. “You’re not married, are you?”
“Only to you.” He’d meant the words as a joke, but they came out more gruff-sounding than he’d intended. “Mine isn’t the kind of lifestyle that lends itself to long-term relationships.” He’d tried to make things work with a couple of different women, but they couldn’t deal with the way the job consumed him. Even when he was home, his head was in the case, picking at the puzzle and trying to figure his next move. He didn’t blame them for moving on—he didn’t have anything to give.
“I guess not.”
“I’ve got an idea,” he said, anxious to shift the conversation away from such a depressing topic. “We’ll invent an emergency—a reason you need to fly back to Chicago right away. A death in the family or something.”
“If we were really married and that happened, you’d come with me. I mean, what kind of husband stays behind in Vegas while his grieving wife attends a funeral?” She shook her head.
“Then maybe I can pretend to leave with you and stay. Hide where they can’t find me.”
“It doesn’t make sense that I’d leave town without my sister,” she said. “I wouldn’t think it would take these guys very long to figure out the connection.”
The sister. He’d forgotten about her. And Laura was right—as soon as Zacolli’s men started tracking Laura’s movements backwards from last night, they’d find out about the sister. “You’d better call her and let her know you’re okay,” he said. “She’ll be worried.”
“I thought maybe we could swing by my hotel after this,” she said. “I could talk to Rachel and get my things from my room. I could use a change of clothes.”
“Let’s go now.” Charlie still sat like a lump at the end of the pool. David hoped the top of his bald head was burning. “I don’t want your sister calling the police.”
“We haven’t been in the pool long. Don’t you think Charlie will be suspicious?”
“We’re honeymooners. We’ve been overcome by lust and the need to get back up to the room.”
Her eyes flashed with unexpected heat. “Is that so? Then maybe we’d better act a little more convincing.” She wriggled against him, and he went as hard as a rock again.
“Laura.” Her name emerged as a sigh, his voice husky with lust.
“Just being convincing.” She wrapped her leg around him, pulling his arousal tight against her heated center.
“You’re convincing me.”
“I noticed.” She nuzzled his neck, sending fire searing through him. “I never—you make me feel reckless.”
“Yeah.” This was reckless all right. Crazy. He had other, more important things to focus on than getting it on with this woman, no matter how luscious and tempting she was. “What’s Charlie doing?”
She lifted her head to look over his shoulder toward the end of the pool where the thug sat. “He’s watching us, with a very sour look on his face.” She shifted her gaze to him. “I don’t think he’s convinced.”
“Maybe he’s just jealous. After all, he’s sitting over there in the heat, all alone. I’m here in the pool with you.”
“Then we might as well enjoy ourselves.” She tilted her head toward him in silent invitation.
He was a man used to resisting all manner of temptations, but willpower deserted him with that sweet overture. He lowered his mouth to hers, losing himself in the sensation of heated velvet lips yielding to his touch. One hand at her back, he pressed her more firmly against him, reveling in the sensation of soft curves fitting to him. He adjusted the angle of his mouth, deepening the kiss, his tongue teasing. God, she tasted good. He felt like a man drowning although he was standing in four feet of water. He was unable to resist her pulling him under, counter to all his carefully trained instincts. She ground her hips against him, and her breath caught in a sigh of pleasure, a sound of such abandon he came close to losing it right there, like some teenager.
“Hrrrmph!”
Loud throat-clearing just behind him startled him into pulling away. Laura blushed a deep pink and released her hold on him. He turned to see a large woman in an orange skirted swimsuit glaring at him. “There are children present!” she scolded.
“Sorry.” He held up his
hands. “We’re newlyweds. I guess we got carried away.”
“There’s a time and a place for behavior like that,” she said.
“Yes ma’am.”
When he turned back to Laura, she stood with her arms wrapped around her, as if she were cold. “I am so embarrassed,” she whispered. “I don’t know what came over me.”
That makes two of us, he thought. He checked the end of the pool. The chair where Charlie had sulked was empty, and there was no sign of the goon. “At least we got rid of our shadow,” he said. He took Laura’s hand and pulled her toward the steps. “Let’s get out of here before he comes back.”
He exited the pool first and offered her a hand up, then wrapped her in one of the hotel beach towels. She gave him a grateful smile before exchanging the towel for a sarong, which she fashioned into a kind of dress over her swimsuit. David ducked into the men’s room and changed back into his khakis and polo. He was grateful for the interval to pull himself together. He had to get this physical attraction for Laura under control if he was going to keep them both safe. He shrugged into his sports jacket and tucked the pistol into the small of his back. The last thing he wanted was a gun battle on the crowded Strip, but he felt safer armed.
They started down the sidewalk toward her hotel. Though it was barely eleven o’clock in the morning, the sun beat down, glaring off the buildings and the pavement. Hordes of tourists with cameras, shopping bags, and drinks flowed down the sidewalks. Groups peeled off to enter the dark cacophony of casinos or the brightly lit chaos of shopping malls. Everything looked so ordinary and American.
So safe. Yet it was anything but.
…
The crowds around them on the Strip could have been aliens or circus clowns, and Laura wouldn’t have noticed. Her every cell was focused on the man walking beside her, on the heat of his hand resting lightly on the small of her back, on the firm, masculine line of his jaw in profile, and on the intense blue eyes that studied their surroundings from behind the dark lenses of aviator sunglasses. She should have been afraid of a man like him—a man who carried a gun, who was trailed by serious criminals who wanted to kill him. Yet she trusted him.