Midnight Alpha

by Carole Mortimer

  “Okay,” Rick accepted. “Time to get back to work.” He drank the last of the wine in his glass. “Enjoy the rest of the wine, it’s one of Gregori’s special vintages.” He grinned. “I don’t think he’ll mind as it’s for you!”

  Gaia wasn’t so sure about that. “In that case I’ll relish every drop!” she came back laughingly.

  “All joking apart…” He paused beside the door. “I have no idea what’s going on between you and Gregori—”

  “Absolutely nothing,” she put in hastily.

  Rick gave her a skeptical glance. “I just wanted to say he’s a good man.”

  Her brows rose. “You’re the third person to tell me that tonight.”

  “Then maybe you should listen: we can’t all be wrong!” He chuckled before leaving.

  Gaia already knew none of these men were wrong. Just as she knew that everything else Nikolai and Lijah had said about Gregori was true. But knowing all that, and being able to get through that cold shell Gregori had erected around himself, were two completely different things.

  Besides which, she wasn’t sure she wanted to pierce through that iron shell again. What would be the point? If she walked away now she might—might just be able to salvage something of her heart, but if she stayed, if somehow she and Gregori had a relationship, then she knew she would never recover once he cut her out of his life.

  Better to have loved and lost.

  No. No, it really wasn’t. Loving someone meant leaving yourself wide open to hurt and rejection. Not loving them meant avoiding the pain and the rejection. Win-win.

  Besides, she had already humiliated herself enough where Gregori was concerned—

  “Feel like company?”

  Gaia barely repressed a groan as Claude now put his head around the door and looked at her questioningly. Didn’t Gregori realize these men had a job to do, and it wasn’t babysitting her?

  Of course he did, but as far as he was concerned all of these men worked for him, and they would damn well do what he told them to. At the moment he had obviously told them all to keep her safe.

  She forced a smile for the Frenchman. “Of course, Claude. Come in. There’s some wine, if you’d like some?” she offered as she stood up. “I’m told it’s one of Gregori’s finest.”

  He strolled across the room to pick up the bottle and inspect the label, as elegant as always in one of his perfectly tailored evening suits. “It is, yes,” he nodded. “And I would love a glass, thank you.”

  Gaia took Rick’s glass through to the adjoining bathroom to rinse and dry it before returning to the office. “Busy night, huh?” she grimaced as she poured the wine.

  “Thank you,” Claude accepted the glass with a smile. “Yes,” he sobered, shaking his head. “Another fight in the nightclub. The third this month.”

  And the only reason this man, the manager of Utopia, wasn’t doing his job down there helping to sort out the situation was because he had been sent up here to act as her watchdog.

  She really would have to talk to Gregori about his overprotectiveness. It was all getting way out of hand. What on earth he thought was going to happen to her in his office was anyone’s guess, but the end result was going to be that Rick and Claude, at least, were going to resent the time they were being asked to spend enforcing that protection.

  “Summer madness, perhaps,” Claude dismissed lightly as he crossed the room to top off Gaia’s almost empty wine glass.

  “Maybe.” If Gregori hadn’t discussed the drug problem with Claude or Rick then she wasn’t about to either.

  “Sante!” Claude tapped his glass against hers.

  “Sante!” she echoed before sipping the wine. It really was very good, fruity with an underlying bitterness. “So what is a Frenchman doing as manager of an English nightclub?” she prompted conversationally. Even though she’d had many conversations with Claude, she’d never thought to ask him that.

  He gave a shrug as he sat down on the couch beside her. “I hope to return to Paris and open my own nightclub one day.”

  “That sounds exciting.”

  “Yes.” He smiled wryly. “It has been my dream for some time now.”

  Gaia only half listened as he continued to go into more details of his plans for the future, the other half of her attention on the security monitors as she sipped her wine and watched Nikolai and half a dozen of the security men restoring order downstairs.

  She’d tried not to look at the monitors too much the past three evenings, knowing she was apt to spend hours just watching Gregori if she did. He was formidable to watch as the owner of Utopia: suave, sophisticated, handsome—so damned handsome—and Gaia knew she was far from the only woman watching his every move.

  He was there now, not in the nightclub, but in the casino, the charming and yet aloof host as he moved from gaming table to gaming table, no doubt ensuring that none became aware of the fight in the nightclub. Occasionally he would linger at a table if spoken to, but more often than not he would move on before anyone could engage him in conversation.

  “—pity that you will not be returning to work at Utopia.”

  Gaia had been so intent on watching Gregori that she hadn’t heard any of what Claude had been saying for the past few minutes. Except this. She most definitely heard this. “Who says I won’t be returning?” she prompted sharply.

  Claude looked taken aback by her vehemence. “I hope I have not spoken out of turn? Gregori told me earlier this evening that you would not be coming back to work here. I thought… Perhaps I was mistaken?” He looked uncomfortable as Gaia continued to frown.

  She had absolutely no doubts that Claude had heard Gregori correctly.

  Bastard!

  After their conversation earlier he must have gone straight downstairs to inform Claude her employment here was at an end.

  Well they would see about that!

  She rose quickly to her feet, only to sway dizzily as the room seemed to revolve around her.

  “Gaia?” Claude voiced his concern as he stood up to grasp her arms and prevent her from falling.

  “I think—” She couldn’t think; she wasn’t only having trouble standing, but also talking and stringing her thoughts together. Her tongue suddenly felt too big for her mouth, and the room kept zooming in and out of focus.

  The wine.

  One of Gregori’s ‘special vintages’, my ass!

  She hadn’t had enough of the wine to be drunk, so the only explanation for the way she now felt had to be because the wine was drugged.

  Rick had brought her the wine.

  Oh God, Rick had to be the one.

  The person supplying illegal drugs to the patrons of Utopia.

  Angela’s lover.

  And also her sister’s killer?

  “Claude…” She tried to grasp hold of his arms, but her fingers slipped weakly off the sleeve of his jacket as her legs began to collapse beneath her. “Gregori. You have to get Gregori,” she managed to gasp weakly before her knees gave out completely and everything went black.

  “Gregori!”

  He turned with a frown at the sound of his name being called so loudly that everyone around him also turned to stare, that frown deepening as he saw the disreputable Lijah Smith striding through the casino in a hurry.

  He met the man halfway. “What on earth do you think you’re doing—”

  “She’s gone,” Lijah interrupted him flatly. “You were right and we were wrong, and now she’s gone.”

  Gregori stiffened as he felt an icy chill run down the length of his spine. “Gaia?”

  “Gaia.” Lijah nodded grimly.

  Gregori grasped the other man’s arm to pull him out of the casino and through to the privacy of the hallway leading to the elevators. “What do you mean, gone? How can she be gone?” he demanded angrily. “You or Nikolai were to be with her the whole time.” He frowned. “Oh God, is Nikolai—”

  “He’s fine,” Lijah dismissed economically.

  “You’re
fine, he’s fine, and yet Gaia is missing?” he rasped accusingly.

  The other man winced. “Nikolai was downstairs doing one of his routine security checks when a fight broke out on the dance floor; a couple of minutes later I received a call asking for my help—”

  “From who?”

  Lijah shook his head. “There was a lot of background noise. I thought it was Nikolai—”

  “It wasn’t.” Gregori knew that Nikolai would never call the other man for help and leave Gaia unguarded, no matter how serious the problem he was dealing with.

  “No, it wasn’t.” Lijah scowled. “It took a while to restore calm, and the two of us only just now had time to compare notes. Nikolai didn’t call me, but had assumed, as I was downstairs, that you were with Gaia.”

  “I wasn’t.” He hadn’t trusted himself to go anywhere near Gaia again tonight after listening to and vetoing the foolhardy plan outlined to him earlier. “Are you sure she isn’t somewhere else in the nightclub?” he prompted tightly.

  If Gaia had dared to go against his instructions and implement her reckless plan despite what he had said, then he didn’t care where it led to, he was going to spank her backside until she could no longer sit down without great discomfort. Then he was going to fuck her and fuck her again until she couldn’t walk either.

  Lijah gave a shake of his head. “She’s nowhere inside the club, I checked all the security monitors before I came looking for you.” He grimaced. “This wasn’t something I wanted to tell you over the phone.”

  Gregori could respect the other man for that—even if a part of him also wanted to beat the other man to a pulp. Lijah should never have left Gaia alone, no matter what the circumstances.

  No—Gregori was the one who should never have left her alone.

  If anyone was to blame for this then it was him. He had known that Gaia was a target because of him, and still he had passed the responsibility of protecting her over to others. Because he hadn’t wanted to deal with his physical reaction to Gaia. With the way she continually went over and through his protective barriers. Poking. Prying. Making Gregori want things he knew he couldn’t have.

  And so he had avoided being with her as much as possible, telling himself that he had discharged his responsibility by having Nikolai and Lijah protect her.

  This was the result.

  Gaia was gone. She could already be dead, for all he knew.

  “Don’t let your imagination run away with you,” Lijah advised abruptly.

  “That’s fucking impossible given the circumstances!” he bit out between gritted teeth.

  “It’s only been a few minutes—”

  “Long enough for someone to get her out of here, while everyone was distracted by the fight in the nightclub, bundle her into a car and drive her away.” Never to be seen again, he silently added to that statement. “Someone inside Utopia has to be involved—have been complicit in getting Gaia out of here.” He scowled darkly.

  “We’ve known that for some time—”

  “Then we should have discovered who that someone was by now!” Gregori knew he was being unfair, that Nikolai and Lijah had been working twenty hours a day in their efforts to find out where Ivan Orlov was and who his contacts were inside Utopia.

  He had never felt so damned helpless. If Orlov now had Gaia then there was no question what he would do in retaliation for Sergei’s death, the only variable was when.

  “Jesus, Gregori, this is a complete fuck-up!” Nikolai hurried down the hallway to join them, his face pale.

  He knew, just from looking at the other man, that Nikolai had no news. No positive news, anyway.

  “I’ve arranged for us to look at all the security discs for the past hour,” Nikolai informed him abruptly. “If Gaia left the club, willingly or unwillingly, then it will be on one of those discs somewhere.”

  “Willingly?” Gregori echoed sharply.

  Nikolai looked uncomfortable. “She was pretty pissed with you earlier.”

  He gave a humorless smile. “Unless you hadn’t noticed, she’s pretty pissed with me most of the time. Tonight’s…disagreement was no worse than the others we’ve had.”

  “If you say so.” Nikolai grimaced. “All I’m saying is let’s try not to think the worst before we know the facts, okay?”

  “Let’s go and look at those discs.” Gregori strode off in the direction of the room where one of Nikolai’s men watched over all the security monitors, Nikolai falling into step at his side.

  “I’ll join the two of you in a few minutes,” Lijah called after them as he took out his cell phone.

  Gregori kept walking, his sole purpose now to view those security discs.

  He needed something tangible, someone to turn his murderous fury on as it churned and raged inside him. Burning a hole in his chest. Eating him alive.

  Gaia.

  God, Gaia…

  “It can’t be…” Nikolai murmured in disbelief a few minutes later as he stopped the disc where Gaia could be seen lying unconscious in the back of a car, her abductor’s face as clear as if he was standing in the same room with them.

  Gregori was too stunned to even say that much.

  It couldn’t be. And yet it was.

  The man grinning up at the security camera—as if he wanted to be seen and recognized—couldn’t be real.

  He was dead.

  A ghost.

  “Dair’s on his way— Shit, that can’t be right!” Lijah came to a halt as he also stared down at the image on the monitor.

  They all agreed it couldn’t be, and yet at the same time there was no denying the evidence in front of their eyes.

  Gregori tried to suppress the panic he could feel rising inside him. The dread. The fear for Gaia’s life.

  And failed utterly.

  Chapter 16

  If Gaia had ever had a worse headache in her life then she didn’t remember it. It was the sort of headache that made her feel nauseous, and the thought of attempting to open the heaviness of her lids, let alone lift her head, seemed like an agony beyond bearing.

  Confirming she’d been drugged?

  She remembered the dizziness. The disorientation. The inability to talk properly. The collapse of her legs beneath her even as the blackness overwhelmed her.

  There had to have been something in the wine.

  Put there by Rick.

  But surely she had seen him drink some of the wine too—

  “Open your eyes, Miss Miller, I know you’re awake.”

  Miss Miller. Gregori always called her Miss Miller. And yet this certainly wasn’t Gregori’s clipped English voice. The man who had just spoken to her so harshly sounded American—

  “Don’t make me hurt you, Miss Miller,” his voice was low and threatening. “I have no doubt I would enjoy it, but I guarantee you wouldn’t!”

  What the hell!

  It took tremendous effort and concentration, but Gaia finally managed to pry her lids apart, only to wince from the bright light. She slowly turned her head to look at the man who had spoken to her so aggressively.

  Which was no help whatsoever. His face was no more recognizable than his voice. The only thing looking at him did was instill more fear into her—he was holding a gun, a black pistol of some kind, in the hand resting on his jeans-clad thigh. A shiver of revulsion and terror cascaded down Gaia’s spine.

  Her gaze slid away from that gun, and the man, too overwhelmed with fear to look at him anymore.

  Instead she slowly took in her surroundings. There were two windows but they appeared to be shuttered or boarded up on the outside, and the room was sparsely furnished: just a cluttered table, two upright chairs, and no carpet on the hardwood floor. The man was sitting on one of the chairs as he looked down at her lying on the lumpy couch, a single glaring light bulb shining overhead.

  Not Gregori’s office then.

  Gregori…

  He was going to be so angry when he realized she was no longer at Utopia.

  Wo
uld he know she hadn’t gone willingly, or would he assume that she just walked out, returned to the life she had told him she missed and wanted back—

  How had she walked out of Utopia?

  She hadn’t. She couldn’t have walked anywhere in the state she had been in, so how had she gotten here?

  And what about Claude?

  He had been with her when she collapsed. Where was he now? What had the man beside her done to him?

  She carefully returned her gaze to the man sitting on the chair in front of her—her head felt as if the top of it might explode if she moved it too fast—her gaze shying away from the gun for a second time.

  The man had cruel eyes.

  Hard.

  Dark as onyx.

  Merciless.

  A killer’s eyes.

  Oh God, had he shot Claude with that gun before somehow spiriting her out of Utopia?

  Gaia tried to swallow, but her mouth felt so dry the act was impossible. No doubt another side effect of whatever drug she had been given. “Claude?” she finally managed to croak through that dryness.

  The man gave a humorless smile. “Still at Utopia.”

  Oh God, he had killed Claude.

  Poor Claude.

  He was—had been—only in his early thirties, and just minutes ago—how many minutes, she didn’t know—the Frenchman was excitedly telling her about his dream of returning to Paris to open up his own nightclub—

  No, she couldn’t think about any of that now. Had to concentrate. Try to learn who this man was, and why he had gone to the trouble of arranging for Rick to drug the wine so that he could remove her from Utopia. She instinctively knew the answer wasn’t going to be good.

  She tried to concentrate on listening, to see if she could hear anything that would give an indication of her whereabouts, perhaps the betraying noises of a busy London street at night.

  Cars. She could hear the sound of traffic outside of what she could only presume was a house. She was in a town or city then, so perhaps she was still in London, after all. And if she was still in London, maybe Gregori would find her—

  Not going to happen, Gaia, she told herself heavily. Gregori couldn’t find her when she’d likely disappeared without a trace.