A Breath Away

by Wendy Etherington

  “Yes.”

  “The one you used to break into my room last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know, Tremaine, you can be very trying to a woman’s patience.”

  He leaned close, his heat washing over her. “The next time you’re on the verge of an orgasm, I’m going to make you call me Tremaine before I send you over.”

  Her throat went dry. “Are you threatening me?”

  His eyes sparked with challenge. “I’m promising you.”

  “You’re certainly arrogant, assuming you’ll even get me in such a vulnerable position again.”

  “I’ll get you there, all right.” He smiled and drew his index finger from her chin to the spot just between her breasts. “You want me to prove it?”

  She vividly recalled his body moving in and out of hers, the need that crawled over her skin every time he was near her. She cleared her throat. “I’ve got things to do, just now. Maybe later.”

  She didn’t like his confident smirk, but she was distracted by the ring—minus its stone—that she held in her hand. “What the hell is that?” she asked, staring at the jagged metal prong, which looked amazingly like a key.

  “What do you think?”

  “It looks like a key.”

  “I think so, too.”

  “To what?”

  “I have no idea, but I think we may be about to find out.” He ran his finger down the edge of the mini key. “Any guesses what it unlocks?”

  “A bus station locker? A handcuff? Hell, it’s small enough to fit a mini padlock on a preteen girl’s diary.”

  “The possibilities are endless.”

  “Which is why you haven’t learned its significance before now.”

  “Is that a compliment?”

  She cut her gaze toward him. “I’m still pissed at you, but yes. The big question seems to be, why now? If Garner killed Nagel all those years ago, why is he just coming after the ring now?”

  “Even more troubling is the idea that I’ve had the ring all my life—my mother left it, and me, with the nuns when I was six months old. Why does Nagel wait fifteen years to seek it—and me—out? Then Garner waits another twenty to do the same thing?”

  “We have a lot more investigating to do.”

  He slid his arms around her. “You’re not dumping me after I lied?”

  “No, I guess not.” Her heart was already hammering at his touch. She had about as much choice in seeing this through to the end as she did taking her next breath. What started as a case had become a quest.

  She knew better than anybody that the past was capable of defining the future, and until Remy knew the truth about his past, he couldn’t move on. Her job was to help him find that peace—or at least bring about a conclusion.

  The only difference was that her mission had become personal.

  He pulled her tight against his chest and kissed her forehead. “There’s something else I haven’t told you.”

  She breathed in his sexy heat and tried to remember why that was important. “No kidding?”

  “Nagel might have been my father.”

  “YOUR FATHER?” Jade echoed, her tone hollow.

  Remy had definitely screwed up by holding back on her. He’d known it the moment he’d lied, but holding back was so natural to him it seemed part of his DNA. He’d told nobody of the ring’s significance, yet there were people now after him for it. Even after thirty-five years, the cheap thing fascinated anyone who came into contact with it.

  It held the key to his past. And his future.

  “That’s what he told me when he came to see me at the orphanage.”

  “He was your father, he’d given you the ring at your birth and now he wanted it back?”

  “Yes.”

  “And for the previous fifteen years he’d been…?”

  “Scrambling. Though he didn’t say that at the time. I learned later about his connection to Garner, some Mob people and your basic seedy underworld.” His legacy. Wasn’t it beautiful? “Can you handle sleeping with a second-generation criminal?” he asked quietly.

  She met his gaze, her eyes soft with understanding. “You’re not responsible for him.”

  “Just for my own actions. Which aren’t too pretty, either.”

  “He abandoned you and your mother. You’d never do that.”

  An amazing kind of relief rippled through him. “No, I wouldn’t.”

  “Let me pace.” She slid out of his arms, and he knew she wasn’t rejecting him, just falling into her usual mode of thinking. “You said he might have been your father. You’re not sure?”

  “I only have his word.”

  “But you’ve been trying to find his murderer ever since.”

  “Because he might be.”

  “It’s damn noble, you know.”

  He shook his head. “I’m a lot of things, Jade. Noble isn’t one of them.”

  She stopped and smiled at him. “You’re not a bad guy, Tremaine, you’re just trying to be.”

  Warmth spread through his body, even as he tried to deny her belief in him. Wouldn’t he just disappoint her later?

  “Your mother omitted your father’s name from your birth certificate to protect you,” she added.

  He’d waffled between hoping so and cursing her decision. “It’s possible.”

  She laid her palm against his chest. “Your mother couldn’t stand the idea of you being brought up in such a dangerous environment. Sister Mary Katherine was obviously right about him being a hoodlum.” Her gaze searched his. “Garner knows your father’s identity.”

  He’d thought the same thing. “Maybe. If Nagel is my father, did he tell Garner he’d given the ring to his son for safe keeping? Did Garner demand he get it back?”

  “Or was your father someone else entirely? Someone not involved with either of them? Maybe he really did own the ring from the beginning, and Nagel and Garner conspired to get it from him, and—ultimately—you.”

  “Could be.” He nodded at the ring and its odd key. “And that’s how we find out.”

  She handed the ring back to him, then massaged her forehead. “My brain is fuzzy. I need to think. I need sleep.” She walked around him and headed toward the door. “Alone.”

  A sense of panic, a need to hold her, invaded him. “I’d rather you stay.”

  She reached for the doorknob and kept her back to him. “I can’t.”

  “I am sorry for lying to you. It won’t happen again.”

  “I believe you.”

  “Sort of, anyway.”

  “Sort of.” She glanced back at him. “I’ll get him for you.”

  “Let’s get him together.”

  REMY LAID AWAKE long into the night thinking about pasts and mistakes, about futures and promises. Maybe that was natural for a man whose life was on the line—even more so than it usually was.

  When he finally fell asleep, he dreamed of his mother, with her long, dark hair and warm, brown eyes. She sang to him in a soft voice, wearing a flowing, Bohemian skirt and lighting candles that smelled like tangy ocean water. She was beautiful and comforting. He longed for her to hold him.

  Then her face changed.

  It became paler, with freckles, and Jade’s voice came out of her mouth. I’m at the end of my patience with you. Her eyes turned bright green and softened with tenderness and desire. You’ve captured me in a way I didn’t think I could be. Her eyes narrowed; her body tensed. Or is that a lie, too?

  He was completely wrapped up in her. He wanted her time and attention. He was fascinated by her face, her moods and her strength. He needed her expertise.

  Though he’d settle for her body.

  With that thought, he woke as he usually did. Suddenly, with an immediate awareness of his surroundings. The cool sheets around his body. The hotel room air conditioner humming. The low garble of the TV in the outer room, where Mo was no doubt keeping watch.

  His mind, inevitably, went to Jade. He wondered if she slept nude.r />
  Not likely. She rarely relaxed, and she could probably count on the fingers of one hand the number of times she’d been vulnerable to someone else. He pleased himself by deciding he now owned one of those. Would she let them continue? Would she give herself to him again?

  Oh, yeah. She would.

  He rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom. After a shower and shave, he dressed and headed out of his room.

  Jade and Mo were slouched on the couch and staring at the TV broadcasting the morning news. The smell of coffee permeated the air.

  “Breakfast is on the way,” she said as he poured himself a shot of much-needed caffeine.

  The mug cradled between his hands, he settled into the chair next to the sofa. “Quiet night?”

  “Yeah,” Mo said. “I’ve got a report on Garner. I’m waiting for Frank to get up.”

  “He got back?”

  “About three,” Mo said.

  Seemed as though nobody slept well last night. It was 8:00 a.m., and being a night owl, Remy wasn’t exactly crazy about the early hour, but he held a deep appreciation for the sacrifices Jade’s team was making so he had no intention of complaining.

  “What’s for breakfast?” David asked as he strolled out of the other room. In contrast to the rest of them, he looked fresh and rejuvenated.

  No one responded, simply pointing at the coffeepot.

  Jade shook her head and blew on her coffee as David practically bounced across the room. Cheerful morning people are a pain in the butt. He could see the thought cross her mind as if a cartoon word bubble hovered over her.

  Either the coffee or her presence managed to wake up his brain. And his libido.

  He noted she was wearing her usual jeans and T-shirt—this time in charcoal-gray. Was he imagining the extra flush to her cheeks? Did the glance she gave him hold a special warmth?

  Then again, with Jade, it was more likely any warmth or flush could be attributed to anger rather than morning-after joyfulness.

  Room service arrived moments later. Jade disengaged the security system, then she and Mo brought two, white-draped, rolling tables into the room themselves. Remy doubted the room service guy was interested in offing him, but he supposed their party of people—not to mention all the electronics equipment—would inspire too much conversation in the hotel kitchen.

  Either the smell of food or the noise brought Frank out of his room. Though his eyes were bloodshot, he was dressed in jeans and a crisp white shirt. “’Mornin’.”

  “Our bird is tucked away?” Jade asked as she scooped scrambled eggs onto her plate.

  Since the dining room table was loaded down with equipment, they gathered in the living room and held their plates in their laps.

  “Yeah. I’ve got a rotation of off-duty cops watching him. Easy extra cash for them, since I doubt Hannigan will do anything more than run up his room service tab.”

  “Mo, what did you find out about Garner? Is he still in San Francisco?”

  “Yep. He’s been moving between his office and a few galleries. Nothing unusual.”

  “Does he know we’re watching him?” Jade asked.

  “I don’t think it matters if he does,” Remy said. “He’s been pretty obvious about his moves. No reason we shouldn’t be the same. I’d prefer a face-to-face fight.”

  Jade’s gaze slid to his. Her eyes were full of the determination he valued and depended on. “Me, too.”

  “He doesn’t know,” Mo said.

  Frank cleared his throat. “I’ve got some NSA news.”

  Remy’s voice mail had been full of increasingly harsh voice and text messages from his boss, demanding Remy check in. He’d finally complied late last night by sending a text message that he was fine and being well protected. He hadn’t turned the phone on this morning and could only imagine the reply he’d received.

  “I did some asking around,” Frank continued. “A guy I know was recently asked by his supervisor to dig into Remy’s business for possible illegal activities.”

  Remy had always known the agency would betray him. Nobody with any sense would trust a group of spies. Still, the confirmation stung. “Who’s the guy?”

  Frank shook his head. “Sorry, I shouldn’t tell you that.”

  “The supervisor?” Remy asked, pressing the issue. He deserved to know who was stabbing him in the back.

  “Jordan Hillman.”

  His supervisor. Remy clenched his fist. “A direct order?”

  “No, it was passed through another agent, but he later verified it during a phone call.”

  “What did he find out?”

  “He said not much. He told Hillman your art business looked on the up-and-up to him. My buddy didn’t like the assignment, though, so he might have held back information.”

  “I don’t see how,” Remy said, rising to refill his coffee. He needed to move around, to walk off his anger and resentment. “There’s nothing to find.”

  “Jordan Hillman didn’t hire a hit on Remy,” Jade said. “Looking at Remy’s business is just his usual paranoia. He thinks four steps ahead of everybody and two steps back. He’s fishing and hoping for a bite. If he found anything, he wouldn’t even tell anybody. He’d just store away the information for a time when he could hold it over Remy’s head.”

  “I’d like to repeat—there’s nothing to find.” Calmer, Remy returned to his seat and considered that he’d graciously given the NSA four years of his life. Maybe it was time to officially retire from his penance. They’d never be able to prosecute him now. He knew too much about them. “Though Hillman would probably be pissed to see my balance sheets. My profits are definitely on the upswing.”

  “No doubt,” Jade said. “He was furious when I left and had immediate success. He thinks I sold out. Like I defected to the world of capitalism.”

  “He has no room to judge,” Remy said. “He’s a silent partner in a major gun supplier that always gets their NSA contract renewed.”

  Jade turned toward him. “How do you know that?”

  Remy just smiled.

  “Still, the request itself can’t be ignored,” Frank said. “Especially since Hillman’s in a bad mood these days.”

  “I won’t go to Washington and report like a good solider,” Remy said.

  “Ignore him,” Jade said, her eyes flashing with anger. “We don’t need his help, and he just wants to control you.”

  Remy raised his eyebrows. “Are you suggesting I break the rules?”

  “I’m suggesting Hillman’s bureaucratic self can cool his heels until we get Garner and figure out how he plays into Remy’s past. The ring and its meaning is what we focus on.”

  “I’m for that,” David said.

  “So we table the NSA?” Jade asked, her gaze going to Frank.

  “As long as we don’t let them fall off the radar.”

  Jade stacked her empty plate with everyone else’s, then she and Mo pushed the tables out to the hall.

  When she returned, she paced in front of them. “I’m going to call Detective Parker this morning and set up an appointment for Remy to give his statement about last night’s attack. Maybe we can get an update on our would-be assaulter, Johnny Malden.”

  Frank snorted. “Who wound up getting assaulted himself.”

  “That’ll teach him to mess with J.B.,” David added.

  “David, I want you to connect with the San Francisco police. Let’s see what their cops have to say about the slippery Mr. Garner. If they can’t find out anything,” she added, sensing the question David was bound to ask, “we’ll give Detective Parker more. He seems like a good cop, but our client is open to prosecution for past activities. We have to tread carefully.”

  “Yeah, especially since the bad guy is hiring amateurs,” David said.

  “Maybe he’s a cheapskate,” Frank suggested with a smile.

  “Maybe,” Jade said. “Or maybe he’s waiting for us to lower our guard before a big attack. The real attack. We’re on our toes today,
people.”

  The men nodded and started to rise.

  “One more thing before we break,” she added, shoving her hands in the back pockets of her jeans.

  Her team returned to their seats, and she cast Remy a furtive glance—one full of an odd combination of warmth, regret and embarrassment. Realizing what she was about to do, he stood. “Don’t. You don’t have to.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  10

  JADE STILL WASN’T sure how she felt about her relationship with Remy.

  It was wrong and right. It was inconvenient and perfectly timed. It was lovely and frustrating. It made her edgy, even as it was satisfying.

  But this case wasn’t about her feelings. The lives of the men before her depended on her good judgment. She trusted her team, and they gave her the same in return.

  Her employees had invariably seen her practically naked—either by proximity or when a disguise was required. They’d put wires down her shirt and taped recorders and monitors to various parts of her body.

  There was no place for embarrassment.

  She drew a deep breath and launched into the speech she’d rehearsed many times over through the night. “My relationship with our client has gone beyond a professional nature. It’s not something I can apologize for, but I ask for your understanding. If any of you feel uncomfortable continuing with this assignment, I need to know now.”

  The men all exchanged looks, then grinned simultaneously.

  “Finally got laid, did you, boss?” David asked.

  “I, well, I—” She had. There wasn’t much point in denying it.

  Frank punched David in the arm—though without much force behind it. “Mind your manners, boy.”

  Mo frowned at David in disapproval, then surprised her by rising and hugging her briefly. “You need a break from work, and Mr. Tremaine is a good man.”

  “Oh, well. Thanks.”

  She felt Remy lay his hand on her shoulder, and she wasn’t sure if that helped or made her feel more awkward.

  “You treat her right, Mr. Tremaine,” Mo said, releasing her as his dark, threatening gaze slid to a point behind her. “I’m gonna get some sleep, boss.”