by Shayla Black
Before she could make a clean escape, Mark grabbed her arm and drew her close. His spice and body heat assailed her. Nicki had to fight the urge to sway against him.
"I swear," he murmured, "Despite everything, I couldn't treat you like just a suspect. There's something about you that... it just won't let me go."
She swallowed. Nodded. Breathed in his earthy pine scent, went weak at the knees, and prayed for the strength to resist the sensual promise lurked in his eyes. "Thank you for that. Excuse me."
Mark hesitated, then lifted his hand, curling it around her neck. She saw him looming above her, coming closer, closer. Turn your head! Push him away! For the life of her, she couldn't do either.
Nicki knew she'd never have another opportunity to kiss him good-bye.
So she lifted her face to him in offering. Her eyes slid shut as he filtered his fingers through her hair. Mark surrounded her then, chest to breast, the gentle slant of his mouth settling over hers. He tested her response, caressing, silently imploring. Nicki sighed against his lips and opened to him.
Mark eased his way inside, groaning. He didn't force or barge; he had no need to. Instead, he slid in with a soft touch, stroking the inside of her mouth in lingering sweeps that made her dizzy. Made her ache--with desire, yes. But even more with pain. His potent kiss evoked poignant longing, like she was saying good-bye to summer before a long, frigid winter.
Like she was bidding farewell to the only man she'd ever love.
At that thought, tears stung the back of her eyes. Nicki broke off the kiss and covered her swollen mouth with her hand. She lifted her gaze to his. It was a mistake. Regret, care, need, frustration all churned in the brown-flecked depths of his greenish eyes. And he looked half a heartbeat away from grabbing her and taking her mouth again.
Maybe he did care for her ... in his way. But there was too much water under too many bridges. He'd betrayed her for a job, taken her to his bed to further an investigation--and wouldn't let his scarred heart care too much ever again.
It was over. Nicki had known it earlier, but the kiss only brought it home inexorably. They were done.
Better to end it now, go make sure the police had taken the intruder from her house, find Lucia, and tell her about Blade's evil plans, then get them both to safety while she tried to think of a way to extricate her uncle's henchman from her business.
Nicki edged away from Mark and picked up the sack from the gift shop. She all but ran to the bathroom. She had a little of Mark's leftover money in that bag. If lady luck was smiling on her, the bathroom would have a window and the building would have a way down to the street.
Clutching the little paper sack, she entered and flipped on the light, shutting and locking the door behind her. Then she gazed out the little square window and smiled at the fire escape.
Jackpot!
Chapter 17
Shimmying out the window and climbing down the fire escape proved as easy as finding a half dozen pairs of darling shoes at Sak's. Finding a taxi in the drive-through chapel part of town after midnight ... downright frightening.
Swiping angry tears from her face, Nicki managed to look tough in a white dress with bare feet while marching toward a busy street to track down a taxi. At least she guessed she did since she didn't get mugged.
When she'd finally accomplished the first part of her mission, Mark's leftover money from the gift shop extravaganza convinced the cab driver to take her to the club. It took every dime in her possession to satisfy what she owed. He scowled at the lousy tip, and Nicki regretted that she didn't have any more to give him, but her purse was in her car back at the motel.
After watching the taxi's taillights fade in the distance, Nicki turned and stared at the dark club. She wanted to just go in and see if her sister had returned from painting the town red. But was that the best plan? The police, if they had come at all, were gone now. Any chance the intruder was still there? If Blade really was out to kill her, was he just waiting for her to come back? She'd never particularly liked him, but murder?
A speeding car roared through the parking lot behind her.
Not just any car--Blade's black Lexus convertible.
Oh, shit! She started to run, but a totally unexpected voice stopped her.
"Nicki, there you are!" Zack shouted. "We've been worried! Where did you go?"
Frowning, she took in his mussed hair and pale face. "With Mark. What's going on?"
"No time to talk. Get in! I'll explain on the way."
"The way to where? And why are you in Blade's car."
"It's faster. Watch out!" Zack pointed to something behind her.
Blade exited the building and began stalking his way through the parking lot, his heavy stare locked on her. "Nicki, stay where you are!"
She blinked, watching in horror as Blade's furious face thundered closer, closer. Her heart thudded, threatening to break free of the blood and bone that trapped it inside. She'd always known she was going to die someday, but she didn't picture it happening before she turned thirty, damn it.
"Get in!" Zack yelled.
When Blade reached into his jacket, pulled out his shiny gun and pointed it in their direction, Nicki gasped and ran. She didn't have time to scream, and she wasn't going to argue. Instead, she scrambled around to the side of the car and hopped in the passenger's seat.
"No!" Blade roared in the otherwise empty lot. "Come back here!"
Then he fired his gun. If Zack hadn't peeled out and turned the car toward the road at that moment, the bullet would likely have planted itself in his temple.
Breath rasping in and out of her chest, Nicki trembled as Zack approached the edge of the lot. "Holy cow! I can't believe he nearly shot you. What is going on?"
Barreling from the other direction, her Crossfire suddenly charged into the parking lot. Damn, Mark must have realized she'd fled and chased after her in her car. Of all the times to take an after-sex interest in her, why did he choose now? Mark had barely stopped the little car when he scrambled out.
"Nicki, come back!" His golden hair flew around his face in the desert wind. Panic transformed his face as he ran toward the Lexus.
Her heart nearly broke at the sight of him.
Zack floored the accelerator and, with a screech of tires, the car darted out into the nearly empty night. She turned and watched as he sprinted after the car, shouting her name. But he only grew smaller and smaller as Zack put distance between them.
"Wait!" she ordered Zack, terror slicing through Nicki's belly. "You've got to stop. I can't leave Mark there. Blade will shoot him!"
He ignored her. Out on the street, streetlights whizzed by as the car picked up speed. Fifty, sixty, seventy, through the empty streets of Vegas. Nicki couldn't possibly bail out of the car without needing a full body cast when it was all said and done. Beating Zack was tempting... but not when he could introduce the car, along with both their heads, to a brick wall. Was he that afraid of Blade?
"Zack! What are you doing?" she demanded. "Turn around. We've got to rescue Mark!"
He turned to her with a dark stare that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. A movement near his waist drew her attention. She looked down to see him point a small gun in her direction.
"Honey, if I were you, I'd start worrying about myself right now."
Mark watched Zack speed away with Nicki. He thanked God she'd gotten away before Blade could point the gun he held at her head and fire.
Staring at his nemesis across the parking lot, Mark suspected he wasn't going to be so lucky.
To his shock, Blade bolstered his gun and drew out a cell phone. Cursing, he punched a few buttons and made a low-voiced request Mark couldn't quite hear. Was he sending someone after Nicki and Zack to finish them off?
"The game is up, Bocelli. I know about the money laundering. So does Nicki. I know you've been trying to kill her--"
Blade stomped in his direction. "We've got to find Zack and Nicki before they get too far away. You'
re going to help me. Now!"
Knowing it was likely going to get his brains splattered across the blacktop, Mark leaned into Blade's face. "You're going to have to kill me before I let you go anywhere near her."
Gritting his teeth, Blade grabbed Mark's shirt. "There have been moments when the idea would have thrilled the hell out of me. But we don't have time for this now." Blade released him. "You've got everything wrong. Damn it! Zack is your bad guy."
"Don't try to pull that shit on me, you motherfu--" "Why did Norton send you here?" he growled and reached into his jacket. This time he pulled out a small leather case and flipped it open to reveal an official-looking badge. "Jon Bocelli. FBI."
Nicki stared at the cold, black metal of the gun's barrel hovering at Zack's waist--and pointing directly at her. Nervous laughter escaped her throat.
"Zack? If this is your idea of a joke--" "Do I look like I'm kidding?"
She searched his face, gaze tracing the tense lines, the sweat running down his temple, and the grim shape of his mouth. No, he didn't look like he was kidding in the least. "Oh, no ..."
"I hate to do this. I really do." He sighed. "I like you. It's nothing personal."
A cold terror rained through her blood. Zack was seriously threatening... to kill her?
"Whatever it is, you don't have to do this."
"I do," he huffed. "You're in my way. I tried to make the light fall on you. It would have looked like an accident since we'd had the lights serviced the previous day. You wouldn't have felt a thing... But no, that Viking buffoon had to knock you out of the way at the last minute."
"Oh my God ..." Nicki muttered, shaking her head.
Zack slowed as he approached a red light. Nicki waited for him to stop, praying that in the precious moments he did, Mark might come after her or figure it out and send the police. Maybe she could jump out of the car. Something. Anything!
Bad went to worse when Zack didn't stop at the red light. He checked left, right, made sure no cars were coming, no police cars were evident. Then he sped on.
"When I cracked the gas pipe at the back of your stove," Zack went on, "I never imagined the blond hulk would come back from New York so suddenly and carry you out of there. Another hour, tops, and it would have looked like an unfortunate accident. Again, you wouldn't have felt a thing. Perfect."
"You hired the intruder," she blurted.
"I had to do something. I was getting desperate. You just wouldn't die! I love you, sweetie, but you've always been too stubborn for your own good."
Zack had tried to kill her--more than once. Not Blade. All this time, her stage manager and friend, trusted business associate--hell, he had signing authority on the club's accounts in the event something happened to her... Oh God, was that how he'd planned to control the money pipeline all along, by killing her? Nicki's gaze fell to the gun pointed right at her side. Scratch that. Was that why he planned to kill her tonight?
"Why?"
He sighed, seemingly exasperated. "Why does anybody do anything? Money, of course. Money laundering is dangerous business."
Shock cracked Nicki's numb shell. "You'd kill me for money? You were a friend. I trusted you ..."
"I have to care for family first. You can't imagine that my grandfather's treatment is cheap. Old Frank's medication for his Parkinson's alone is a fourth of what I make. I have no health insurance, so I can't add him to my policy. Medicare isn't paying for much. I can't keep him at my place with a nurse at night anymore. He's declined too much. He needs assisted living, but I can't afford it. So, when I was contacted by someone who represented Cosa Nostra kinds of interests who offered me a way to make money, of course I accepted. It's either that, or watch my grandfather die a fast, humiliating death."
"I know you're distraught, but think it through. He's going to die, anyway."
"Bitch!"
Fury exploded in Zack's dark eyes. He raised a fist from the steering wheel and punched her in the cheek. Pain exploded inside her head, detonating every nerve with agony. The searing clawed through the muscles of her face, into her head. She cradled her cheek in her hand and looked at him as if he were a completely dangerous stranger.
He was.
"That man raised me, gave me everything when my own worthless parents were too drunk to care. When he was diagnosed, I vowed I'd spend my last dime to take care of him. And I have. It's not enough." Zack's voice broke.
"I'll help you. I have money--"
"It's too late." He shook his head. "Mark and Blade now know I was the one washing money through your accounts. I managed to hide the truth for over a year, but they were both suspiciously nosy. Blade is your uncle's lackey, so his prying didn't surprise me. I did wonder why he hasn't told Pietro about his suspicions. But Mark ... I wondered if he's a cop or something. But then I realized neither trusted the other. I made sure it stayed that way."
He'd been very effective, Nicki knew. The two men could hardly be in the same room without coming to blows. All along she'd thought it was too much testosterone. Instead, it had been too much suspicion without enough facts.
"Even more delicious, I suspected Mark thought you were guilty of helping Blade. So I helped him believe it, planted clues, timed things just right, like not moving money while you were in the hospital. Worked like a charm ..."
It had worked--all too well. Fury shook her. The man she'd thought of as a friend had done his best to ruin her life. Now he wanted to end it. "Who are you laundering money for?"
He shot her an incredulous frown. "Look, when you're presented with a great business opportunity, sometimes it's smart not to ask too many questions."
"You have no idea? That's crazy! This plan doesn't make any sense, Zack--"
"It makes perfect sense! I've been stashing my cut of the money and distributing the rest as I was instructed. The next group of real estate transactions was going to be to be my last. You were supposed to be dead so that nothing could stop me from withdrawing the last of the transaction's profits from your bank--along with your cash on hand. I could skip town before anyone figured out that I'd cleaned out the club's accounts. Frank and I would be settled and comfortable in the Caribbean. Now ..." he raked a hand through his dark, spiked hair, "This is just a disaster."
Nicki couldn't decide what to do. Play on their past and their friendship and pray she could talk him out of it? Treat him like any other kidnapper or killer and fight to the last drop of blood?
"Zack, your grandfather wouldn't want you to kill for him."
"He's a frail old man. You think I'm going to tell him?" Zack made a quick left down a side street, wheels skidding.
Now they sped through an older section of town. Cracked sidewalks, aging desert landscaping with the occasional mature tree dotted the old neighborhood. She sensed they were nearly at their destination. Once they got there... Nicki shuddered, refusing to think about it now. She had to keep talking, keep him talking. Stalling until she found a better solution might be her only hope.
"There are witnesses now. Blade and Mark both saw--"
"I know," he roared. "They--they can be dealt with, too! The testosterone twins have been nothing but in my way."
Zack jerked on the steering wheel, sending the car zooming down a narrow alley. He parked between a Dumpster and his aging blue van, hiding Blade's flashy vehicle from the street.
"Get out." He poked her in the ribs with the gun.
Nicki scrambled to get out of the car. He moved to do the same on the other side. Screw this; she wasn't waiting for him like a good little girl to lead him somewhere so he could politely shoot her. Not a chance in hell!
She glanced at Zack unfolding his six-foot frame from the little car. While his knees were somewhere near his waist, Nicki started sprinting toward the street as fast as her bare feet would take her.
When the retort of his gun exploded in her ears and a bullet kicked up the cement inches from her feet, she began to wonder if she'd make it.
Mark wasn't sure how long i
t took him to collect his jaw from the hot tar of the parking lot.
He stared at Bocelli, utterly stunned. "You're the undercover agent?"
"Yeah. I'm investigating Pietro DiStefano's Mafia ties."
Mind racing, Mark tried to wrap his mind around the fact Blade was one of the guys in white hats, not the man trying to steal the money. Not the guy trying to snuff Nicki. But more importantly, Nicki was out there now with the real bad guy, who'd likely do his best to kill her--and quickly.
"We gotta get the hell out of here and get to Nicki," Mark insisted.
Blade nodded. "Let's go."
Mark hopped in the driver's seat of Nicki's little car. Blade all but hurdled the passenger door.
"Where to?" he took off, driving in the direction Zack and Nicki had disappeared.
"I've already placed a call. GPS Tracking is one of the features on my car. I'll get a call when--"
Blade's phone rang, interrupting him. "Yeah?" he answered. "Is that south? Okay." He fished around in the glove box and found a pen and a scrap of paper. He jotted down a few numbers and a scribble. "Got it. Send backup."
While Blade ended the call, Mark gripped the steering wheel. "Where is she?"
"Older part of town. I have an address. Just keep going in this direction. We're ten minutes away."
Ten long minutes. Damn it! In ten minutes, a man with a gun could easily kill an unarmed woman. In a white dress, she couldn't hide well. With no shoes she wouldn't be able to run well. How on earth was she going to live another ten minutes?
Mark gunned the accelerator, willing the car to travel faster, to reach Nicki before the worst--the unthinkable--happened.
This was his fault. Totally his fucking fault. If he had, for an instant, suspected Zack... More, if he hadn't given her a reason to want to crawl out the window to escape him ... If he'd been more capable of giving her what she needed... If he'd been capable of loving her like she deserved...
If he'd believed in her goodness... none of this would be happening.