“Does it really matter?”
“It doesn’t, Ben,” Monique said quietly. “We’ve heard enough.”
Dominick glanced at her and gave another slow shrug. “I don’t know who you are or what good you think this will do you. But Benny here could kill me before I’d repeat what I just said in front of anyone else. And I’ll deny I ever said it to you two.”
Ben resisted the temptation to mention the tape recorder. He’d save that little surprise for later. Instead, he simply said, “Monique? Call the cops. Then see if you can find Farris Quinn. He’s got to be in the lobby or someplace.”
“HE SHOULDN’T HAVE TO go back to jail!” Monique clutched Ben’s hand more tightly and glared daggers at Detective Marchand—the officer in charge of the police team that had arrived. “He’s an innocent man who’s already spent three years in a cell.”
Marchand paced the length of the meeting room the hotel’s manager had provided, then stopped and turned back toward them.
For a moment, Monique was aware how ridiculous they looked, even minus the head of Ben’s ape costume and her frog mask. Then Marchand started speaking and her only thoughts were about what he was saying.
“Look, as I explained, it’ll only be until the proper documents are signed and the paperwork’s processed. But tracking down lawyers, district attorneys and judges at eleven o’clock on Mardi Gras isn’t exactly a piece of cake.”
“Well why can’t he stay right where he is for the moment? Until you track down whoever you need?”
“Because, like everyone else, I’ve got rules and procedures to follow.”
“But—”
“Monique?” Ben interrupted quietly. “It’ll be okay. Give us a couple of minutes?” he added to Marchand.
The detective nodded, looking relieved at the chance to leave. Before he was even out the door, Ben took Monique in his arms.
“I don’t want to let you out of my sight,” she said, barely able to stand the thought of it “You don’t trust the NOPD. And people sometimes have accidents while they’re in police custody.”
He gently brushed her hair back from her face and said, “Hey, I’m not going to have any accident. I’m as high profile as it gets, remember? I’m the frontpage story in tomorrow’s Times-Picayune. And before he left, Farris Quinn made certain every cop within a block of this hotel knew that.”
“And you’re sure they won’t put you in a cell with Dominick and Danny Dupray?”
“No, I’ll be in a cell for prisoners on their way out. They’ll be in one for prisoners on their way in. And I promise I’ll be fine.”
“Really?” she murmured, gazing up at him.
“Word of honor.” He gave her a long, deep kiss that took her breath away.
“I want you to do something for me,” he murmured at last
“Anything.”
“Good. You saw those television crews arriving as we came in here?”
She nodded.
“Well, instead of leaving with me, and being on a TV newsbreak, I want you to stay right in this room and make a few phone calls.”
“No, Ben, I—”
“Just listen. As soon as you’ve done that, you can come down to the station and wait for me. But you can’t have your parents suddenly seeing you on TV with a convicted murderer. You’ve got to call them right now and explain what’s happened. Then I’d like you to let Maria and Dezi know. Oh, and you should call the Twinkle for me.”
“The Twinkle?”
“Uh-huh. Tell Barb there’s a better-paying job for her at the Crescent any time she wants it”
Monique smiled. “You know what?”
“What?”
“You’re an awfully nice man.”
Ben rewarded that line with another sinfully breathtaking kiss.
“You know what?” he eventually whispered against her lips.
“What?”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
Epilogue
Friday, February 14
9:45 p.m.
With her arm looped through Ben’s, meeting all his friends, Monique was as close to floating on a cloud as it was possible to be within the confines of the Crescent Wine Cellar.
While he exchanged reminiscences with someone he’d known for years, she glanced across the polished floor to where her parents were talking with Maria.
Practically the moment he’d been released on Wednesday, Ben had called and invited them to New Orleans—along with her brother and his wife, who were over by the bar laughing about something with Dezi and Barb.
“What are you smiling at?” Ben asked as his friend moved on.
“Dezi and Barb. I wasn’t surprised at how fast she took you up on your job offer, but it never occurred to me the two of them would take an instant liking to each other.”
“Why not? We did.”
“Oh, Ben,” she said, gently poking him. “I hated you because I was sure you were a murderer, you hated me for testifying against you, and when you took me hostage I was more petrified than I’d been in my entire life.”
“And now…?” He gave her such a sexy smile she almost melted.
“And now you’re fishing for compliments.”
“So? Don’t I get any?”
“Well, let’s see. Now I love you instead of hating you and you don’t scare me even a little bit.”
“I’ll have to work on that, then,” he teased. “A husband should be able to strike at least a little fear in his wife’s heart.”
“Shh, it’s not ten o’clock yet.” And they’d agreed not to say anything until they’d made the official announcement—even though ninety percent of their guests probably suspected there was more to this party than the freedom celebration Ben had called it.
“It’s almost ten,” he said, checking his watch. “So just before we tell the world…” Digging into his pocket, he produced a little black velvet box.
Her throat tight, she opened it The diamond was enormous, and even in the soft lighting of the room it sparkled. “Oh, Ben…it’s heart-shaped. That’s so romantic.”
“Well, this is Valentine’s Day. And I do love you with all my heart.”
“Oh, Ben,” she murmured again. Then she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him—until even the remaining ten percent of their guests must have figured out what was up.
eISBN 978-14592-6831-9
THE VALENTINE HOSTAGE
Copyright © 1997 by Dawn Stewardson
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or In part In any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the Imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly Inspired by any Individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure Invention.
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Printed In U.S.A.
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Table of Contents
Excerpt
Dear Reader
Dedication
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter
Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
Copyright
The Valentine Hostage Page 19