by Jo Leigh
He looked down. His eyebrows rose as if he’d just noticed her state of undress. “Oh, God.”
She shivered at the immediate hunger in his eyes. The last time he’d seen her naked, they hadn’t been able to keep themselves apart. They’d made love over and over, enduring the torture of having to be so quiet. She’d buried her face in her pillow to mute her screams of pleasure. No one had touched her the way Nick had, and she’d never felt anything like the tide of emotions that swelled when they were close.
Being with Nick had made her situation with Todd agony. She’d never been thrilled with Todd, but once she discovered what making love should feel like, Todd’s touch had repulsed her to the point of pain.
All through the past two years she’d survived on the memories of her nights with Nick. There had been so few, but she could recall everything; the slightest detail. She’d played those time and again, her only sexual release had been to sweet thoughts of his touch.
But the man who stood so close, staring at her body as if he’d never seen her before, was a stranger. She didn’t understand how he could speak to her as he did, what he expected from her.
Nick closed his eyes, took a step back. He exhaled slowly and when he opened his eyes again it was to look for her dress. He reached for one of the outfits on the hook, handed it to her without meeting her gaze. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? That’s it?” She slipped the black dress over her head. It was long, slinky, clinging to her curves.
“You’ve been a total ass.”
“I know.” He leaned back, rested his head against the wall. “I have to be.”
“Why? What happened? What changed?”
He looked at her again, a coldness she’d never seen before darkening his eyes. “I have to. And no, I can’t explain.”
“You can’t help me. You can’t explain. Fine. That’s your business. Just do me a favor. Don’t get in my way.”
“What are you thinking?”
“You have no right to ask me that.”
He stepped forward, took hold of her arms again. “Tell me, Jenny. Damn it, don’t you go do something stupid.”
“Let me go.”
He did, but he didn’t step back. “Don’t try anything funny, Jenny. Not now.”
“Why should I listen to you? You’ve clearly sold your soul to that bastard.”
“Look, you don’t have to listen to me. I know that. But do me a favor. Wait. Things are going to change.”
“How?”
“I can’t say any more. If you love your son, you won’t ask me to. All I’m saying is lay low. Let Todd have his way. It won’t last forever.”
“What are you telling me?”
He turned away from her. “Don’t. I’ve already said too much.”
“Too much? You haven’t said anything. Damn it, Nick, if not for me, then for my son. Talk to me.”
“He won’t like that dress,” Nick said, eyeing her from shoulder to toes. “It’s not slutty enough.”
“That’s it, then? All you’re going to say?”
He reached for the door, but she put her hand on his.
“Tell me one thing, all right? Did you feel anything at all for me? Before? When you were in my bed? In me?”
He spun around, took her once more in his painful grip, only this time, his lips came down on hers, hard, bruising, then his tongue was inside, thrusting, and it was as if he wanted to eat her, to devour her.
And there was nothing she could do but give it all back to him, just as hard, just as desperately. She remembered his taste, the way his lips felt, his tongue teased. The strength of his chest, his shoulders.
She’d memorized him, inch by inch, and it was all so familiar and yet it was all new. Nothing should feel this good and this terrifying.
More.
She wanted more.
He pulled away sharply, looked at her as if she’d tricked him, as if he hadn’t been the one to grab her, to kiss her. And then he was outside the dressing room, and the surprised salesclerk gasped, started to complain. Her voice receded until Jenny was alone in the silence, listening to her racing heartbeat, her ragged breath.
None of it made any sense. Patrick in the care of a stranger. Todd with his cruelty and his demands. And Nick, who was the most confusing thing of all.
Chapter Seven
In the two weeks following the incident in the Armani dressing room, Nick made it a point to avoid being too close to Jenny. He had to watch her, although Todd had agreed that not all Nick’s time be spent with her. She spent most nights in her own suite, but only after Todd had finished with her. He’d also acquiesced to let her have a few hours every day alone with Patrick. During most of those visits, one of the younger guys who worked with Sweet stayed outside her door, not letting anyone in or out. Except for the days when Nick took Jenny and Patrick out to swim, or to Circus Circus, where Patrick could go on the little kid rides.
Nick wasn’t big on children, for the most part. He was the youngest of two, and his older sister and he had been eight years apart, so she was more like an aunt than a sibling.
Nick had never been with a woman who had kids, and he’d never wanted to go there himself, given the kind of life he led. But he liked Patrick. Liked him more than was wise.
He was a corker, that’s all. Inquisitive and quick. His laugh was infectious and Nick found himself teasing the boy, making him giggle.
He tried to see the part of Patrick that was Todd, but that probably would come later. When Patrick got a little older, a little more selfish. And when he understood who his father was, what would that be like for him? The money he’d have would soften any blow, that’s for sure. But Nick couldn’t help thinking the kid might have turned out great if Todd hadn’t found him.
Whatever. He had no business getting attached. Things were bad enough with his feelings for Jenny screwing him up but good. Keeping his physical distance was one thing. The woman wouldn’t leave his thoughts.
The only thing that chased her away was the very real, very imminent, danger they all faced from Todd. Whenever he wasn’t with Jenny or Patrick, Nick was with Todd. He was Todd’s liaison to the demolition people who were to implode the El Rio on the Fourth of July.
They’d decided to take the building down at 11:00 p.m. It would give the tourists a chance to witness the implosion then get back to the Strip in time for the midnight fireworks display.
The city was to set off one round at 9:00 p.m., Todd had hired another company for the later celebration. They were expecting nearly three-hundred thousand people on the streets that night, and Nick had to coordinate with the police, the demolition crew and the city planners. Not to mention locate what might end up to be a nuclear weapon, and take Todd down so far he’d never see daylight again.
Todd was flying in a lot of guests for the Fourth, most of them from out of the country, all of them his surveillance equipment customers. Sweet had been given the task of handling those details, and Nick had the feeling that whatever the hell Todd was planning was going to come down with the biggest international audience Todd could assemble.
Nick’s boss had doubts about his theory. His boss’s boss thought he was barking up the wrong tree, that Todd wouldn’t risk his operation just to be a weapon’s dealer. Nick knew they were wrong. But he had no proof.
He had the uneasy feeling that proof would come at a cost no one could afford.
It was the second week of June. Which meant, if it was going to break open on the Fourth, that time was running out.
So why in hell did he spend half his waking hours thinking and worrying about Jenny?
At least Nick had determined the layout of the spy equipment in her room. He’d mapped out the safe zones. There weren’t many. He’d also tried his sound-neutralization equipment several times and was satisfied it worked. How? Because he was still alive. Simple test, bitch of a pass/fail.
He also knew Jenny hadn’t taken his advice to back off. She was up to something.
He hoped it wasn’t going to get her killed. Because Todd was as enamored of the kid as Nick was. He loved the idea of an heir apparent. He was grooming the boy to be his successor, and nothing was going to stand in the way. Not Nick. Not Jenny. Nothing.
Nick put away his Palm Pilot and headed back toward Jenny’s room. He was supposed to take her shopping yet again, then have her back in time to dress for dinner at eight.
He resented the time spent away from his important work. He resented being a baby-sitter.
He wanted Jenny so badly he could hardly breathe.
AT SIX FEET, three inches, Edward Potereiko towered over his companion as they stood watching the giant cranes load containers onto the T.R.S.L. Antares.
“So, Colonel. I suppose this means no more Kalashnikovs?”
Edward’s gaze never shifted from the distant workers. “I’m afraid so, Ashida-san. I was never comfortable with it anyway.”
Terry Ashida glumly stuck his hands into his pockets. For the past six years he’d bought thousands of surplus AK-47s from Potereiko and resold them for considerable profit on the world markets. The arms trade, and the ready availability of the Russian-made rifles, had made him one of the wealthier men on Hokkaido and a civic leader in Kushiro.
On the positive side, the former Russian army colonel had given him a number of contacts in Russia and the Ukraine, but Terry was not at all confident they would be as honorable in their dealings.
“You look like hell, Potereiko. When was the last time you slept?”
The colonel’s gaunt face blocked the sun as he looked down and smiled, exposing a stainless-steel cap. “Days, Ashida-san. Long days. But now I can rest easier. Let me buy you lunch.”
Terry met the taller man’s smile. “You’re buying, Colonel?”
Potereiko shrugged. “Call it friendship. Call it an homage to my new life in a new world. Didn’t you tell me you knew the finest seafood restaurant in Kushiro?”
Terry laughed and the two men turned from the fenced-in docks and began walking. “It’s on the other side of the Nusamai Bridge,” Terry said. “But well worth the walk.”
“Just keep it easy. I am tired.”
“Why the move, Colonel? If you don’t mind my asking.”
Potereiko’s gait slowed, the bottom of his greatcoat brushing his legs in the sea breeze. He stopped and looked out across Kushiro harbor toward the horizon. “Twenty-five years in the Russian army, and the thanks of a grateful motherland are retirement checks that cannot be cashed. They arrive months late and are too small to live on if they were on time and anyone would honor them.”
He met his companion’s gaze. “I believe I can sell my knowledge of Russia in the United States, Ashida-san. It’s that simple. Today’s Russia is a young man’s game.”
The two men began walking again.
“So why the rush, Edward?”
“I have a job. But I must have my household items in the States by a specific date.”
The bridge loomed above them and Potereiko stopped, gazing up at the bronze sculptures that graced the arch. “The four seasons,” he said admiringly. “It’s a symbol of life itself, yes?”
“A lot of Japanese culture is symbolic,” Ashida said.
“I think it’s in the genes.”
“And yet, ultimately everything boils down to life and death, doesn’t it, comrade?”
Terry Ashida looked up into Edward Potereiko’s eyes and recognized both desperation and irony. “It does indeed, Colonel. Now let’s get lunch.”
AS SHE WAITED for Nick to show up, Jenny rubbed her arm where Todd had bruised her the night before. She’d put some aloe vera on it; she didn’t think it would help. People might notice. Not just people, either. Nick might see.
She shouldn’t care. He was the one who had advised her to sit back and do nothing. Thank goodness she hadn’t told him her plan. Already she’d managed to stockpile some pretty damning information about Todd’s business dealings. She had to be so careful, it was going to take forever to build a case. But tonight, if she played it right, she would have a good opportunity to look through some of his papers.
They were going to a party for a singer who was notorious for the amount of booze, drugs and women at his gatherings. Tonight he was celebrating his fiftieth birthday and, given the occasion, Jenny was sure he’d outdo himself in his excesses. She planned to get Todd drunk. A risky proposition.
After two drinks, Todd was unpredictable. Too little and he just got mean. Meaner than usual, that is. Too much and he got sick, and no one was crankier than Todd when he was sick. Just enough, and he went to sleep for hours. That’s what she needed tonight. A few uninterrupted hours to go through his briefcase, his desk. To use the copier without having to watch her back.
He’d actually eased up on her somewhat since she’d been so cooperative. She’d been the perfect little accessory, dressing up for him, waiting on him, fawning over him when they were in public. Of course he’d found new and horrible methods of humiliating her when he could.
She hated it, despised every second of it, but every debasing act fueled her determination to see him put away for life.
Just thinking of what would happen to him in prison made her able to bear about anything. God only knew what he’d do if he ever suspected he wasn’t Patrick’s father. And if he dreamed Nick was his rival, he’d kill all three of them without hesitation.
Witness protection was her only hope. It would mean never seeing Nick again, but given what he’d become, that was probably a good thing.
Why she couldn’t just let him go, let her foolish hopes die, was beyond her ability to understand. She had no idea what he was thinking, if he truly was as devoted to Todd as he appeared, or if he was planning some kind of coup.
It hardly mattered. He’d done his best to keep his distance from her, and he’d never touched her since that day at the Forum Shops.
If only he hadn’t kissed her, all of this would have been easier. He’d proved to her that her memories weren’t faulty, that his touch electrified her in every possible way. And then to have to see him every day, without any kind of intimacy—
He’d knocked twice, then let himself in. It was nearly noon and she’d had her time with Patrick for the day. Four hours stretched ahead of her like a blank page. Todd had told her to go buy something new to wear tonight, but she didn’t want to go shopping. She hated shopping.
She left her bedroom and found Nick standing in the middle of the living room, staring at the new painting that Todd had installed. It was a not-so-subtle reinforcement of who she was, and who Todd was. The lithograph depicted a slave girl being dragged behind a Mongol warrior on a huge horse. Todd had bragged about how many thousands of dollars the piece had cost, but that’s not why he’d bought it.
She paused, looking at the man looking at the painting. He wore dark chinos and a retro-looking short-sleeved shirt. The collar was open, the shirt not tucked in. His dark hair was slicked back, and the total picture was utterly striking. He was too good-looking. A man like Nick should be a movie star or a crooner. At the very least, a salesman. He shouldn’t be here, with Todd. He didn’t make sense with Todd.
He turned to her, raised his eyebrows in an unstated question. The microphones, of course. No words. Big Brother watched. And watched.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
He didn’t move a muscle. Knowing Nick, he’d figured out where the cameras were, and he wouldn’t give himself away. Not over a painting. But she could tell he hated it. Hated what it meant. “We’re going shopping, yes?”
She nodded. “I need to find something wonderful for tonight’s party. Something that will dazzle him.”
“Dazzling dresses. I know just the place.”
She smiled as if her heart were in it. “I’m ready.”
He led her to the door, locked up behind them. Walked her down the hallway, keeping a respectable distance. Not a word, not a glance between them. Yet she felt him as if they were connected b
y something outside of gravity, outside of science. She practically felt his heart beat in his chest.
It had been like this for days. Whenever he was near, there was a joining. Maybe it was because they couldn’t speak. Was this how it was in prisons? In wars? Or was it because they had been lovers.
Still wanted to be lovers.
The elevator came. They got in. Silent, vibrating, swimming in this ocean of perception she’d never experienced before.
No, she didn’t know what he’d had for breakfast, the color of his boxers. But she knew the ache that lived low and deep inside his chest, all the way through his brain down to his feet. She knew that the not touching con sumed him, that he wanted her more than his next breath.
They shared this life on the inside, and she knew with a certainty that if they could speak freely, hold hands, kiss, this awful strain between them would disappear.
It wasn’t close to what she wanted, but it was hers and it was all she was going to get. It didn’t seem to matter that he’d changed. That he’d gone over to the dark side. That he wouldn’t tell her anything.
At the lobby level, he let her out of the elevator first, then followed her to the limo and Kahrim, looking polished as always in his black chauffeur’s garb. He helped her into the back seat and they headed off toward the Fashion Show Mall. Two blocks before the turnoff, she looked at Nick, sitting so quietly beside her.
He turned the same second.
Amazing.
She opened her mouth, but he gave a slight, almost-imperceptible shake of his head. As if to prove her point, she realized she’d been about to say something indiscreet, and he, knowing that, had stopped her.
Freaky.
They got to the mall and Nick and Kahrim made their arrangements. Then Nick guided her through the entrance. Once inside, she stopped him. This time he let her speak.
“I can’t go to one more store. Not yet. I’m so damn sick of shopping.”
He looked around briefly, nodded as if to himself. “There’s a coffee shop on the second level. Will that do?”
“That would be wonderful.”