by Juniper Hart
Had… had Valducci gone after Carrie for revenge? Had he killed her to send a message to Ansel?
Guilt choked Ansel, but he willed himself to remain calm. He had no proof of that, of course, but it was a better theory than the one the police from Las Vegas had.
Inspector Watkins had warned him that the detectives would be there the following afternoon to take his statement.
“They are eager to see this matter resolved, as you can imagine,” the inspector had told him as they turned for the door.
“I imagine it is bad for business at the Bellagio,” Ansel had replied tightly.
The inspectors had chuckled.
“We had the very same thought. I would recommend you are honest with them,” Inspector Valentino had told him. “As much as we are reluctant to do it to a British citizen, we do have an extradition treaty with the United States.”
“I did not murder that girl,” Ansel had snapped at him. “And I have been completely honest with you.”
“Then you have nothing to fear.”
Should I tell the Vegas police what I think happened? Ansel wondered. Then he shook his head to himself. If Tony Valducci was responsible for Carrie’s death, Ansel would seek his own retribution, but first he would need to prove it.
“I thought you were making a phone call?” Louis called from the doorway.
“I’m calling Phillip,” Ansel told him.
“Good idea,” Louis agreed. “And then I want you to sit down and walk me through every minute of your Las Vegas trip when you were not in my sight.”
Ansel rolled his eyes. “Oh, Louis—”
“Don’t ‘oh, Louis’ me! I am preparing you for what’s coming tomorrow. They will do everything they can to trip you up and twist your words. And if they have their way, you’ll end up in jail being charged with first degree murder by the end of business tomorrow!”
“You exaggerate,” Ansel sighed. “They can’t charge someone with murder on a hunch. They need evidence.”
“Do I exaggerate?” Louis snarled, closing the space between them. “I did five years for a bank robbery I didn’t commit in the eighties because a seventy-four-year-old great grandmother identified me in a line up. I was in Florida at the time. Didn’t stop them from booking me in New York. You’re too cocky, Ansel and that’s great in the ring, but in real life, it’s not going to serve you well.”
Ansel stared at him, surprised by the confession.
I really don’t know the first thing about this man, do I? he thought with a sudden appreciation for his trainer.
“But you had a record, didn’t you?” Ansel asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Never mind what I did in the eighties!” Louis said with a scowl. “Why don’t you walk me through what you know?”
“All right,” Ansel agreed. “I will tell you everything that happened, but it stays between us.”
Louis sighed. “We should probably find you a lawyer, too. I’ll leave that to Phillip.”
Ansel turned back to the phone and removed the cordless from the handset. As he dialled, he saw a flash of Nora’s face flitter before him.
I will be there soon, he promised her. He resisted the urge to leave Louis and go find her, knowing it would only bring about more trouble. Even though he wanted to believe that Nora was fine, his instinct told him that she wasn’t, that she needed his help. If I go for her now, we will never be safe anywhere again. We will be hunted together if people learn about us. You must hold on, love. I will come for you.
Wherever she was, Ansel hoped she understood and forgave him for leaving her behind…
Again.
Nora was naked, a coy smile on her full mouth, her dark eyes sparkling as they did before they made love.
“You have finally come for me,” she called, reaching out to touch his face. Ansel swept forward to embrace her tightly. “I knew you would come.”
“Of course,” he whispered huskily into her dark hair. “Where have you been?” The sweet scent of her filled his nose, and he was instantly brought back to the castle in Misty Woods, where they would sneak away to lose themselves with wild abandon.
Ansel drew back and stared into her shining dark eyes as she cocked her head to the side. When his lips found hers, he felt as if his heart would burst out of his chest.
How had they stayed apart for so long?
Everything was right again, and any apprehension that had plagued Ansel dissipated within Nora’s arms. She reached up, pulling him toward her, and their bodies ground into each other as they fell to their knees, their mouths continuing to explore one another.
Nothing was around them or above them, but it didn’t matter; Ansel had everything he needed. He eagerly kissed her face, his eyes open as he stared at her, savoring every detail of her beauty.
How could I have ever allowed her to get away? he thought, his mouth travelling down her naked shoulders and along the tender lines of her perfectly sculpted breasts. His hand cupped the back of her neck, the other drawing her buttocks upward as he teased her nipple. The scent of her drove Ansel higher into ecstasy, his shaft growing harder as he positioned his face between her long legs.
A burst of heat exploded from her middle, and he sighed in content, smiling as he continued his journey across her flat stomach, her fingers twining in his dark hair.
“I’ve missed you,” Nora mumbled.
Ansel moaned, pushing her thighs apart to nuzzle her damp middle. His tongue teased her pink bud and Nora’s body tensed as a soft cry escaped her lips. He followed with long, deliberate strokes of his tongue, relishing the tension in her body as she clung to him. Her breaths began to exit her body in short, quick puffs, and Ansel could feel the smoke against his own nude skin.
His hands closed around Nora’s shapely hips, yanking her upward, his tongue jutting into her core. Soon, his movements were rewarded. She moaned wildly as she released. His shaft full and ready, Ansel propped himself upward and stared at her lovingly.
“I will never let you go again,” he whispered to her, sliding his rigid member against her cleft.
Nora shivered beneath him, her palms falling against his rear, her eyes pleading for him to take her.
“It has been so long,” she murmured. “I have craved you every minute we have been apart.”
A slow smile formed on Ansel’s lips, and he crushed his mouth to hers as he filled her deeply.
Nails dug into his rear, and he bucked upward into her, the two becoming one again, as they had always been meant to be. Sweat rolled down Nora’s temples, her neck falling back for Ansel to kiss, and his mouth met the flesh eagerly. His member was growing hot and throbbing inside Nora’s center.
Suddenly, Nora opened her eyes and shook her head.
“It’s too late,” she said, and Ansel paused in mid-thrust uncomprehendingly.
“Too late?” he echoed.
“It’s too late to save me, Ansel,” she whispered. In the blink of an eye, Nora had disappeared beneath him, like she had never been there to begin with.
“Nora?” Ansel cried, sitting up in confusion. “Nora!” he screamed, but all he could see around him was absolute darkness.
She was gone.
“Nora!”
“Ansel, get up!”
Someone roughly shoved Ansel, and he whirled around to fight off the aggressor. Before he could do anything, light filled his vision. He blinked several times, and it was only until he could open his eyes that he realized he was lying down in his bed, at his home in London.
Three people were looking down at him: Louis, his manager Phillip, and a man he did not recognize.
Nora was not with him, and she was not any closer than she had been the previous day. It had only been a dream. She wasn’t calling out to him.
“What’s going on?” Ansel muttered, sitting up. “Who is this?”
“I am Detective Carlsberg of the Las Vegas Police Department,” the stranger said curtly. “You need to get up and get dressed, Mr. William
s.”
“Phillip, what is going on?” Ansel demanded of his manager, but the lanky man only sighed.
“You need to do as he says, Ansel. A barrister is downstairs, and I have arranged for a lawyer to meet with you in Vegas.”
“In Vegas?” Ansel echoed. “I’m not going back to the States!”
Phillip and Louis glanced at the floor as the detective stepped forward.
“Mr. Williams, you are under arrest for the murder of Carolyn Halpstern. You have the right to remain silent—”
Ansel stared at his team in shock, hardly hearing the rest of the Miranda warning.
“Are you just going to stand there?” he demanded. “I didn’t do anything!”
“You can’t resist,” Phillip said. “You’ll only make things worse.”
“What the bloody hell do I pay you for?” Ansel roared, still reluctant to rise from the safety of his bed. “Get me out of this mess!”
“We will!” Louis assured him nervously. “But you have to go with the police now, Ansel.”
Ansel knew he was in no position to argue—not without causing more issues.
“He’s right, Mr. Williams,” Detective Carlsberg intoned, and Ansel scowled at him.
“Would you mind leaving the room so I can get dressed, at least?”
“I’ll stay with him,” Louis volunteered quickly. Detective Carlsberg gazed at them warningly.
“You have three minutes,” he said, spinning to leave the room. “Don’t try anything stupid.”
Ansel bit back a snarky remark until he was left alone with Louis.
“Something stupid like arrest the wrong man?” he snarled. “What’s going on here?”
“I tried to warn you that this was going to happen, Ansel,” Louis told him. “This is what they do. Famous hotel, famous boxer, pretty brunette white girl? This is what they get paid to do.”
“This is insane!” Ansel snapped at Louis. “How can they arrest me?”
“You are the last person who was seen with her,” Louis sighed. “And you admitted to being in her room.”
“I was not the last person to see her alive!” Ansel protested, pulling open his wardrobe for an outfit fitting for a trip overseas.
“I never suggested you were,” Louis insisted. “We will get to the bottom of this.”
I am going to get to the bottom of this, he thought grimly. Then he took a deep breath and reminded himself that Louis was on his side. He had to take his trainer’s help—he was going to need it. This was no time for the two of them to be fighting one another.
When Ansel got back to Nevada, he was going to hunt down Tony Valducci again and rid himself of that problem once and for all.
And then he would finally be free to find Nora.
12
Nora sat back on the bed and casually looked around the tiny loft apartment, curling her toes beneath her. Marc grinned at her nervously, wrapping his terrycloth robe closer to his body.
“I can’t tell you how long I have wanted to do that,” he murmured, his eyes light and happy. “From the first minute I saw you in the kitchen at the chalet, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Monsieur Charpentier is the luckiest man in the world.”
Nora smiled faintly.
“You are so sweet,” she told him. She wondered, if the circumstances were different, would she find that complimentary and endearing? Well, it didn’t matter—she would never know.
“But if Monsieur Charpentier ever finds out—” Marc continued.
“Shh!” Nora insisted. “You do not need to ruin a wonderful moment by speaking about him. This is about us, Marc.”
His eyes widened in surprise. He staled toward her and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I have always thought you loved him. But I hate the way he treats you.”
A flutter of hope twisted through Nora’s chest.
“What do you mean?” she whispered, staring at him with wide eyes.
“He locks you away like you are a delicate doll who should not be touched,” Marc said, “someone only he can see. It is not fair. Your beauty should be shared with the world.”
Nora decided that she may have found Marc very dear in another life.
“Why haven’t you done anything?” she asked. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”
He scoffed lightly. “What was I going to say? And to whom? My job is to drive and mind my own business. If you were happy, who am I to question anything? I said to myself, perhaps you like being treated as a china doll.”
Nora tipped her head to the side and studied the young man’s face.
“What if I told you I was very unhappy?” she whispered. “What if I told you that I would like to leave? Would you help me?”
Marc’s face turned pale and uncertain, and Nora bit her lip.
I pushed him too hard, too fast, she realized, swallowing the lump in her throat. I may still have to go with my original plan.
“Oh, I don’t know, Mademoiselle Nora,” he said. “If I was ever caught—”
“I am not a child!” Nora snapped angrily. “If I wish to leave here, I should be free to do so without incident. Instead, I am being held prisoner, as if I cannot be trusted!”
Marc bit on his lower lip and lowered his eyes. “I do not know, mademoiselle—”
Nora willed herself to remain calm. She smiled kindly at him. “I think you can call me Nora now, don’t you?”
She glanced away from him for a second, and her eyes bugged when she saw a laptop perched upon a coffee table. She pulled her gaze away and focused on Marc’s pink cheeks instead.
“What has he told you about me?” Nora asked, willing herself not to look at the device that might lead to her freedom. “Has he told you that I am insane?”
Marc’s color turned crimson, and he shook his head.
“No, mademoiselle!” he insisted. “Monsieur Charpentier does not speak to me about such things. I only know what Collette has told—”
He abruptly stopped speaking, probably realizing he had said too much, but Nora smiled encouragingly.
“I have heard,” she replied. “But what if I told you that everything she knows is a lie?”
Marc stared at her, and Nora could read the doubt on his face. She fell onto all fours, crawling toward him to kiss him sweetly on the lips.
“I must get back to my room before I am missed,” she murmured, and she noted the disappointment on his face. She touched his face with her fingertips, feeling him quiver slightly.
There is still a chance he can help you, she thought. I just can’t press too hard, despite my limited time.
“May I return tomorrow?” she asked quietly, and Marc nodded eagerly. Nora exhaled slowly and rose from the bed, seeking out her discarded nightgown and robe.
“I should see you back to the house,” Marc said nervously.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “You can’t risk being seen. As you said, if you are caught…” She allowed the words to hang in the air. To her satisfaction, his face turned embarrassed.
“Mademoiselle—”
“Nora,” she interjected, slipping the gown over her slim frame.
“Nora,” Marc continued in a rushed breath. “I will help you leave this place if that is what you want, but—”
Nora put her index finger to his lips.
“I have put you in an awkward position,” she told him tenderly. “Do not give it a second thought. I will return tomorrow.”
She turned to leave, feeling his eyes on her as she disappeared down the stairs into the garage. Her pulse raced as she crunched through the snow toward the house, her eyes darting toward the windows of the chalet. She did not see anyone, but when she knew there were eyes everywhere, that did not mean much.
Nora peeked her head through the front door before slipping inside. She kicked off her slippers so that she would not track wetness onto the pristine floors, and then she stole back up the floating staircase toward her suite.
As s
he opened the door, she swallowed back a gasp.
“Where were you?” Collette screeched, her face pale as she ran to Nora. “I have searched the entire house for you!”
Nora stared at her, her mind whirling. She swallowed again to calm her racing heartbeat before responding.
“A-and I was looking for you! Where were you?”
Collette gaped at her. “I—” She paused, shaking her head to herself. “Mademoiselle, what do you need?”
“I wanted Alex to do my hair,” Nora answered, feeling faint as she trudged into the room. Her slippers dripped along the heated tile floor, and she knew that the housekeeper had seen them. “I even looked outside for you!” Nora explained angrily. “Why is it so difficult to find decent help around here?”
She purposely avoided Collette’s gaze, but she could still feel the woman’s eyes burning into hers.
“I don’t know how we missed you, mademoiselle,” Collette said slowly. “Alex is in the kitchen, and I have been cleaning this floor.”
“I find that difficult to believe,” Nora retorted. “I will ensure that Jerome knows about this upon his return. Unless you intend to call him now with an update, in which case I will tell him myself!”
“I will find Alex,” Collette said, exiting the suite.
Panic flooded Nora as she realized how close she was to being caught. Would Collette go to Marc and ask him if he had seen her? What would happen to her if she was discovered? What would happen to Marc?
She had no personal attachment to the young man, not really, but she did not want to see anything bad happen to him, especially not because of her. After all, if she played her cards right, he was going to be her ticket out of this prison.
Maybe I am going about this the wrong way, she thought. Perhaps I should ask him to run off with me instead of helping me to escape. He may go for that. And he can drive…
“Mademoiselle Nora?” Alex called from the hallway. “May I come in?”
“Oui,” Nora said. She crossed her arms and glared at Alex as the girl walked through the door. She might as well keep up her charade. “Where were you?”