Lady Be Good

by Nancy Martin

  “No, don’t,” Grace said. “Stop! Luke, please--”

  She planted herself in front of him. His face was dark, his jaw set. He stopped, but only because he might have knocked her down by continuing.

  The driver retrieved Grace’s shoe and brought it to her. “Here, honey.”

  “You threw your shoe at him?” Luke asked on a startled laugh. “Where’s that chapter in the etiquette book?”

  “I had to do something.”

  The cab driver was badly shaken. “This is very bad. I’m so sorry, sir. I call the police now.”

  “No.” Luke’s hand shot out and stopped the driver from lifting his cell phone. “Don’t bother.”

  “We can’t let them go.” Grace heard her own voice sounding tight and panicky. “They might try to hurt someone else.”

  “It’s all right.” Luke had his arm around her again, holding her steady. “No harm done.”

  “No harm? Are you crazy?”

  “Put your shoe on.” Luke was calmer by the second.

  “That was awful,” Grace said. “Just a few yards from the hotel, too. A random mugging is the last thing--”

  “It wasn’t random,” Luke said quietly.

  “What? What do you mean?”

  “Put your shoe on,” he said again. “We’ll go upstairs.”

  He gave the shaken driver a little more cash and sent him on his way. Grace let Luke lead her into the hotel, and they didn’t speak as they rode the elevator up with another young couple who were holding hands smiling at each other. Grace checked her watch. It was after two in the morning.

  Their butler had left flickering candles burning in the suite, and a bottle of champagne sat in a bucket of ice on the glass coffee table. A bowl of strawberries and some chocolates looked delicious, but Grace wasn’t hungry. All thoughts of a night of pleasures had fled her mind.

  “Let me see your arm,” she said to Luke.

  He allowed her to unbutton his shirt and peel it off. His forearm was already turning purple.

  Grace gasped at the sight of it. “We should go get an x-ray.”

  “It’s not that bad,” he said. “Let’s make an ice pack. By morning it’ll be fine.”

  It wasn’t going to be fine in the morning, Grace could see that. But she forced herself to be calm as she created an ice pack out of the plastic liner from the bathroom trash can. She filled it with ice from the champagne bucket and wrapped the whole thing in a hand towel.

  She found Luke in his bathroom, rinsing his knuckles in the sink.

  She said, “You hit him hard.”

  “Not hard enough, if he could run away,” Luke said with a grim smile. “I’m losing my edge. Good thing you were there with your shoe.”

  Grace pulled him into his bedroom and made him sit on the bed. Gently, she applied the ice to his bruise and said, “Now you can explain what you said downstairs.”

  Luke shook his head and kept silent.

  “It wasn’t random,” Grace said. “How do you know that?”

  “Grace--”

  “Did they speak to you? Please tell me.”

  Reluctantly, he said, “Yes.”

  “What did they say?”

  “The guy with the pipe. He—Look, Princess, you can’t get upset about this.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said to stop asking questions about Jake Kendall.”

  9.

  Grace was glad to be sitting down. She said, “How did he know we were asking about Jake?”

  “I don’t know. That’s all he said. Stop asking questions about Jake Kendall.”

  “But—I don’t understand.”

  “Me neither.” Luke winced and readjusted the makeshift ice pack.

  “The only people we’ve talked to about this are Nora and that agent friend of yours.”

  “Ace is not a friend,” Luke said at once.

  “We both talked to Darrell, too.”

  Luke shook his head. “Darrell wouldn’t have told anybody else. Maybe he said something to Jaydonna, but she wouldn’t have said anything either. The two of them, they’re completely trustworthy.”

  “So is Nora. That leaves your agent friend.”

  “He’s not a friend,” Luke said again. He was frowning. “Okay, I made a mistake calling Ace. I figured he was someone who’d tell me something, and he did. That means he could have talked to somebody else, too. I should have played this closer to the vest.”

  Grace laid her hand on Luke’s good arm. “This is my fault.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “I’m the one who started asking questions about Jake. I wanted to know why you thought his death wasn’t an accident, and now we’re in the middle of something bad. No, that’s not right. I’m in the clear. You’re the one who was attacked.”

  “I survived,” Luke said dryly.

  “I’m so sorry about this.”

  “Don’t be.” He smiled a little. “No, wait—if feeling sorry for me keeps you in this room tonight, then go ahead and pour as much sympathy as--”

  Smiling, too, Grace said, “Don’t make light of this. We’re in a situation here. Somebody threatened you, and we can guess who.”

  Luke nodded. “The Abruzzos are the ones who could go to jail for Jake’s murder. So they’re protecting themselves. They’re threatening us to keep us quiet.”

  “It makes sense,” Grace said. “Who else would be covering their tracks?”

  Luke pulled the ice away from his arm and took a look at the bruise. “This is going to be ugly in the morning.”

  Grace realized she was biting her lip. She felt terrible that he’d been hurt. “Are you sure it’s not broken?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Luke.”

  “Yeah?”

  Hardly able to speak aloud, Grace whispered, “I put you in danger.”

  He shook his head, not meeting her gaze. “I’ll be fine. But I’m glad you’ll be leaving town soon. Glad we’re both leaving town.”

  But Luke’s attackers knew who he was. They probably knew who she was, too. Heaven only knew how far the Abruzzo family would go to protect themselves.

  Grace said, “We should contact the police.”

  Luke said. “I don’t want to make things worse for anybody else. Your friend Nora, for one.”

  “You’re right. I should call her. Warn her.” Grace rubbed her forehead, wishing she could massage some sensible thoughts into her brain. But she was tired. The adrenaline that had flashed through her system when she saw Luke attacked was now making her feel shaky.

  “Not tonight,” Luke said. “It’s too late to call anyone.”

  It was very late. The sounds of the city seemed subdued. No traffic, no sirens, no car alarms. Just quiet.

  Grace gave Luke a smile that she could feel was trembling at the edges. “I have to admit, I’m nervous.”

  “We’re safe here. The Abruzzos can’t get into the hotel.”

  “I’m not nervous about them.”

  He read her expression and looked surprised. “You’re afraid of me?”

  She smiled uncertainly. “Not afraid. How can I explain this? I’m uneasy about where we’re going, Luke.”

  “To bed,” he murmured, already tracing a kiss along her temple.

  “Yes,” Grace whispered. “I’m going to spend the rest of the night enjoying every inch of you. But I’m not really a one-night-stand kind of girl.”

  He stopped kissing her, and a fine line appeared between his eyebrows. “I can’t promise you a lifetime of champagne and roses, Princess.”

  “I’m not looking for a commitment,” Grace said at once. “I don’t even know who I am at the moment, let alone what I can be with you. We’ve only known each other—what? A little more than a day, but it seems longer. I trust you. Am I right to trust you?”

  “Probably not,” he said, teasing. “If I had my way, you’d have been naked hours ago.”

  Grace smiled. “You’ve done a lot of things t
o make me feel comfortable with you. And so this feels right. It’s like an adventure. But one where I’m not going to get hurt.”

  He smiled, too. “You’re not going to get hurt.”

  She stopped him from peeling her sweater the whole way off her shoulder. “But I don’t want either one of us to be sorry in the morning, either.”

  How could she verbalize her biggest fear? That she wouldn’t measure up to some kind of standard he had? He had enjoyed so many lovers. By comparison, her experience had been quite limited. Was he going to be disappointed?

  Maybe he guessed what worried her. He said, “I’m not going to make you feel sorry about anything, Grace.”

  “I feel—I want—I don’t know.”

  He was kissing her then. Against her mouth, he said, “I don’t know what I want yet either. Except you, here, tonight.”

  He eased her sweater off and touched her, kissed her. She slid out of his arms and stood up to kick off her shoes and wiggle out of her skirt. He watched while she undressed, his gaze turning even bluer when she slipped off her underwear and blushed. Gently, he pressed her down on the bed.

  He said her name. Found ways to make her sigh.

  In the bed, skin to skin, she liked the unhurried, thorough way he made love. Telling her what he wanted, showing her. Then letting her take the lead.

  Here, he said. Now. Do you like this? Can I do that?

  Yes, she said. Yes.

  He made her feel confident.

  In the heat of it all, she completely forgot to ask the questions she’d advised other women to ask before tumbling into bed. Dear Miss Vanderbine was long gone.

  A couple of hours later, physically spent, yet too keyed up to sleep, they drank the cold champagne and ate strawberries. A couple hours after that, the sun came up and Grace felt as if she was floating on the edge of something happy and wonderful … while holding something darker at bay. She fell asleep tangled up with him, still not sure what she wanted, but very much liking what she had in the moment.

  It was Luke’s voice that brought her up from the depths of sleep in the morning. She sat up in the bed before she realized he was talking in the next room.

  Grace slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and smoothed her tumbled hair. She found the hotel bathrobe.

  Tying the belt, she went out into the living room.

  Luke was on the phone. He was propped up on the sofa, wearing nothing more than a pair of running shorts. His bare shoulders were thrown into dramatic relief by the slanting morning sunlight that shone through the windows. He had one large running shoe on his lap, and he was struggling with a knot in the laces while pinning the receiver between his ear and naked shoulder. He looked like a young man who’d had a very good night.

  “Yeah,” he said into the phone. “Just tell him thanks, Jaydonna. And, hey, it was great seeing you. Call me when you get to Florida. I’ll come down and hit some tennis balls with you.”

  He laughed at something Jaydonna said and hung up the phone. Grace leaned down to kiss him on the back of his neck. He turned around, took her face between his hands and pulled her over the back of the sofa. She let him do it and ended up on his lap. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His kiss was warm and eager.

  When she finally pulled away and smiled into his eyes, she said, “Tell me you didn’t take your life in your hands and go running outside this morning.”

  “No,” he said. “I went to the gym downstairs. Sorry. I need a shower. How are you?”

  Grace stretched out with him on the sofa, not caring if he needed a shower, letting their legs entwine. Truth be told, she probably needed one, too. Maybe they’d test drive the shower together in a little while. “I’m wonderful, thank you.”

  “Sorry about anything?”

  “No. Very happy that we did this.”

  “It wasn’t too much of an adventure?”

  He was teasing, and she smiled. “Not too much. But—how’s your arm?”

  He held it up for her to see, demonstrating just how purple human flesh could turn. Grace gasped and made an instinctive move to touch him, then pulled back, afraid to inflict more discomfort.

  “Oh, Luke, I’m so sorry! It must be terribly painful.”

  “You forget, I’m almost immune to pain.” He looked at his bruised arm ruefully. “Looks bad, though, doesn’t it?”

  Grace found herself struggling to hold back tears.

  “Hey,” Luke said, sitting up when he realized she was distressed. “Hey, don’t. I’m fine, no kidding. Don’t cry. Here, finish off the strawberries. There’s chocolate, too. I ordered some breakfast. Or lunch. Brunch. Whatever you call it, it’ll be up here in a little while. Don’t cry, Grace.”

  She wiped her eyes with the terrycloth belt of the bathrobe. “I’m okay. Just—sorry—I hate thinking I caused this.”

  “You didn’t.” He petted her hair, cupped her face. “Just—Take it easy, okay?”

  She sniffled, feeling ridiculous. “Is there any more champagne?”

  “We finished it hours ago. I’ll order another bottle.”

  “No, don’t bother.” Grace snuggled down against him, her head on his shoulder. “Let’s just be alone. I don’t want anybody to bother us today. We’ll eat strawberries and spend the day in bed, what do you think?”

  “Great.” He got comfortable with her again. “Except—your phone. It’s been buzzing for the last hour. You weren’t supposed to show up at a bookstore this morning, were you?”

  She shook her head. “I have a cocktail thing late this afternoon. Maybe I could cancel? Fake a sick day? And a radio interview after that, but I do the interview by phone.”

  “What about tomorrow?”

  She sighed, her fingers laced into the hair on his chest. “Tomorrow I go to Baltimore, then Washington. I have a train ticket.”

  It was as if a cloud suddenly blotted out the sun. Luke was silent as they linked their fingers and gazed together at their joined hands. Grace had places to travel. Luke had a life to return to. That was the reality of morning.

  Gently, Luke tightened his hand on hers. Against her ear, he murmured, “Let me drive you. The whole tour.”

  Grace tried to smile. “You’ll be my chauffeur?”

  He kissed her forehead. “And partner in your sexual adventure.”

  “What about your own life?”

  “I can put almost everything on hold.”

  “Almost everything.”

  And then what? Grace almost asked the question. For now, it felt good just to be in his arms, to laugh, to indulge, to have fun. But she had a book to sell. If she didn’t do a good job of that because she was deliciously distracted by him, the last year of work was going down the drain. Mama would be terribly disappointed if the book failed. Dear Miss Vanderbine would be dead in the water, and Grace would have to accept the blame. And start her professional life over again.

  She should have spent last evening on Twitter and Instagram. Not to mention a dozen other publicity chores she’d ditched in favor of going on a date and making hot love most of the night. Now was the crucial time to be selling her book. Could she afford to spend a few days indulging in the pleasures Luke offered?

  Across the room in her handbag, Grace’s phone jingled again. It seemed to be answering her unspoken question.

  She sighed. Time was slipping away fast. “What’s for breakfast?”

  Luke didn’t force her to respond to his offer. He said, “Manny said he’d bring us a little of everything. I’m starved.”

  Grace let her fingertips trail down his chest, the taut muscles of his abdomen, and further. She smiled. “Do we have a few minutes--? Before the food gets here--? You did say that you liked mornings.”

  His lips found her temple, her brow, the bridge of her nose. Against her mouth, he murmured, “I do.”

  “I’ve been thinking about the bathtub.”

  “What about it?”

  Grace told him what she had in
mind, and before she finished whispering, Luke had untied her bathrobe and was exploring her softest parts.

  But then the hotel’s phone rang on the desk, and they couldn’t ignore it any longer.

  Exasperated, Luke clambered up from the sofa and went over to the desk. He picked up. “Hello?”

  Languidly, Grace covered herself and watched him, musing she’d never seen such a beautiful male body.

  “Yeah, she’s here. Who’s calling?”

  His face went blank, and he might have turned pale.

  Grace sat up, thinking the worst. Another threat from thugs determined to keep a murder secret? “Who is it?”

  Luke held the receiver out to her. “It’s your mother.”

  As if electrocuted, Grace leaped up from the sofa. She rushed over and snatched the phone from Luke. Her hands were shaking as she put the receiver to her ear. Disbelieving, she said, “Mama?”

  “Grace, dearie, are you decent?”

  Grace belatedly grabbed her bathrobe closed and clutched it with one hand against her throat. “Whatever you do mean, Mother? Of course I’m decent.”

  “Good,” said the familiar voice. “I’m downstairs. I’ll be up in a minute. What’s your room number?”

  Luke was laughing when she hung up the phone. “What?” he asked, watching Grace’s started expression morph into horror as she revealed the room number. “Don’t tell me she’s downstairs.”

  “She is.” Grace could hardly force her voice to obey. Her heart was pounding. “She’s on her way up!”

  “Now?” Luke demanded, eyes going wide.

  “Right now, this minute.”

  He cursed and fled for the bedroom, backtracking only when he remembered his shoes. He grabbed them off the floor and ran for cover.

  10.

  Caroline Vanderbine entered every room as though she owned it.

  She swanned into the hotel suite with her little white dogs Puffy and Humper straining at their rhinestone leashes—one pink, one blue.

  Mama threw her arms wide. “Grace, dearie! How lovely to see you looking so---good heavens, what have you done to yourself? Where’s your lipstick? Have you lost your hairbrush? And what’s that mark on your neck? It looks like a bite of some kind. Good heavens, I hope this hotel doesn’t have bed bugs!”